


A Box of Letters

by typingkeys11



Category: Dickensian (TV), Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
Genre: AU to Great Expectations, Eventual Romance, F/M, Family, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, Pen Pals, Secret Admirer, Slow Burn, Unacknowledged Feelings, Victorian Attitudes, mental health
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-11-22
Packaged: 2019-03-07 09:45:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 52,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13432101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typingkeys11/pseuds/typingkeys11
Summary: It started with a letter. A rather mysterious letter with little in it and no name from who sent it. It was such a peculiar letter that Miss Havisham had to write back. It was silly to do so but it was a kindly distraction from the daily pain she was lost in.It was a foolish idea on his part but Mr. Jaggers had nothing to lose by sending it. He didn't expect a response back but a letter came. It would be very rude of him to just end the correspondence, now would it?





	1. Chapter 1

 

What a rarity, he thought as he looked out the window. The sun was shining brightly, for once, down on the cobblestone streets of London. Pity, Mr. Jaggers mused. The street where his law firm took residence was a rather ugly one. The brightness from above illuminated the dirt of the cobblestones, the filthy water dumped out by a shopkeeper, missing shingles from roofs, and small piles of refuse piling up.  For some reason, grey and bleak seemed to suit this part of the street. It somehow seemed to justify the dirt, the soot, and grime as a common side effect. The sun exposed the street in a way that made him feel oddly embarrassed and responsible. He frowned internally at himself for his silly thoughts.   The sun was bound to shine and it certainly was not his fault if the street was dirty!  _Really, old chap,_ he told himself. _You must be bored out of_ –

“And are you amenable to this?” Tulkinghorn voice interrupted his self-scolding.  Jaggers instantly came back to the present and stared blankly at his legal partner. _Oh dear…what was he talking about?_ Usually, he did not care about the older man’s opinion but he felt awkward to reveal his inattentiveness.  A habit he engaged in when his boring colleague came to speak to him. Still, Tulkinghorn was senior to him and needed to show some deference.

“Of course, Sir,” Jaggers replied quickly. He hoped he schooled his expression enough to look as if he knew exactly what Mr. Tulkinghorn spoke about.

“Excellent! I will have the documents on your desk after lunch. Good lad!” Mr. Tulkinghorn gave him an indulgent smile and swiftly got up. 

Jaggers forced himself not to roll his eyes over Tulkinghorn calling him “lad”.  While the other man was likely old enough to be his father, his father he was not.  Besides, Jaggers was long past the age bracket of being a lad! He was an established lawyer at thirty-three, for heaven’s sake!  Jaggers didn’t think Tulkinghorn was a rude or demanding man, but he found it excessively tiresome when his senior partner acted overly familiar with him or talked to him as if he was a boy.   

After Tulkinghorn closed the door, Jaggers got up to wash his hands. It was a strange habit he had, one from his childhood. In times of stress, anxiety, confusion, or general unhappiness, he would wash his hands. It soothed him inexplicably when he immersed his hands in the warm water. He felt prepared to complete his work when his hands tingled cleanly from his wash. 

As Jaggers stood above his wash-bowl, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water. He blinked with surprise as he looked at himself.

He looked tired, pale, and in need of a good haircut. Well, not too much of a haircut but enough to make him less like a vagabond.  Did his eyes really look that sad? No wonder everyone asked him if he was troubled! His nose looked too sharp and his ears too big. He frowned and peered down closely.   _Bloody hell_ , he thought. Why was his forehead so large? Jaggers groaned inwardly at his appearance. It could well be the cause of why he had no lady-friend. Much to his parents’ chagrin.

 _Nonsense,_ he scolded himself. _You’re too busy for such things. You can’t have your cake and eat it too! What is more important, being a successful lawyer or being henpecked by a nag of a wife? Especially one who is frighteningly similar to a certain Mrs. Bumble?_

With a scoff, Jaggers dived his hands a bit too forcefully into the water. He lathered and scrubbed his hands roughly as well. Almost as if he was trying to wash away his negative thoughts and the troubled feelings that went with them.   

He didn’t even bother to inspect his hands or dry them on the fluffy, white towel by the basin. He hastily wiped his hands on his trousers and sat down with a new resolve to put his distracting thoughts far away. Time to work.

 

 

Jaggers finished writing his notes on a dispute between a Mr. Bulfinch and his nephew. This particular case was a long-running one for him but felt he could bring it to an end in a week.  As he perused the property deed under Mr. Bulfinch’s name, he gave a jolt when he heard the soft thud of papers on his desk. He looked up in dismay at Mr. Tulkinghorn standing at the foot of his desk.

“If you could have these sorted by the end of the day, I would be much obliged.”

“Is the clerk not here?”

Mr. Tulkinghorn looked confused. “Why, no, dear lad! I told you he had gone home with a toothache.”

Jaggers inwardly cursed to himself. This must have been something Tulkinghorn had spoken about earlier when he was not paying attention.

“Oh, of course! Right, you did say that.”

“By the end of the day, if you please.” Tulkinghorn smiled again and walked out. Jaggers ran a hand down his face in frustration.  He was certain his senior partner was off to some silly gentleman’s club abandoned him with pointless work.  Work a clerk should be doing, no less!   He glanced forlornly at his current work and then at the towering stack of papers and sheaths.  Sorting through that would take him well past the end of their workday. _Right, old chap, the sooner you do this, the better._  

 

* * *

 

After nearly three hours of sorting and organizing, Jaggers neared the end of organizing the old cases in the archives. As he walked to a shelf, he accidentally tripped over his untied lace. Though he did not fall, this did send the last few papers in his hand to fly forward and scatter across his office.  Grumbling to himself, he began picking up the papers when he saw a name that made him stop abruptly.

Amelia Havisham.  Why…he hadn’t thought of that name in months but the last time he had, it only brought him pain.  He picked up the paper reading what he had scribbled down. Nothing interesting except a draft of a letter he was writing to a shareholder demonstrating her capability to run the Havisham Brewery.  He recalled the first meeting she had with shareholders and board members to establish confidence in her running of the business. Amelia was poised, thoughtful, and confident the entire time.

Jaggers had seen many men in similar positions who were awkward and uncomfortable, though they were given much better education and privilege than Miss Havisham. It was evident she would be an excellent successor to her father’s business.  Well, it made sense to Jaggers since he always perceived her as an excellent lady.  An excellent lady who sadly met a tragic fate, wholly undeserved.

_He felt as if he had been punched in the stomach when he heard the shrill, pained, and broken cry from Miss Havisham as he walked towards the gate. He wanted to turn around and go to her side. He was not sure what good his presence would have done if he remained with her but he would like to believe I would reassure her in some way._

_In some way that said he had not and would not abandon her. He had not lied to her nor did he try to deceive her. He would be her faithful helper in all matters. He would remind her though she was in pain now, she was strong enough to overcome and forget. She was a Havisham, he’d implore._

_And then…_

Jaggers blinked and snapped out of his head again. He took a deep breath. _No,_ he told himself firmly. _Much too late for any of that_! Those feelings were not real. He was just a lonely and overworked man with parents who insisted on his marriage (and eventual children). She was just a woman he knew well and had a good opinion of. Certainly not love! Besides, she never paid him any mind before or after Meriwether Compeyson.  Jaggers was no more than her father’s fastidious and overly serious lawyer.

He knew he was not a charming or witty fellow. Jaggers cared little to nothing for dances and social gatherings. He did not play cards nor did he enjoy hunting.  He did not keep in touch with any of his old schoolmates nor was he part of clubs or social circles. As he established earlier, he did not believe he had the physical appearance which would interest any lady, let alone one as lovely as Miss Havisham. 

Though he had not dwelled on Miss Havisham and her fate much after the last time he saw her, he wondered what became of her.  The incredibly small idealist in him believed Miss Havisham grieved an appropriate amount of time and perhaps went off to the country. Maybe she began a new life away from the painful memories. He hoped she found some happiness by leaving London. 

Or…the more practical side of him imagined she remained a broken woman, forever grieving and alone.  He occasionally passed Satis House and he could see servants were still going in and out of the property. Jaggers strongly doubted Arthur resided there but had not heard any news of the house purchased by someone else. 

 He was very curious to know if anyone had any information on her whereabouts. Of course, he had no real reason to inquire but he would come up with a clever excuse for his question.  Jaggers heard the loud clang of bells indicating it was now six o’ clock.  Jaggers got up from the floor and gathered up the papers he dropped.

He felt strangely empty as he put the last Havisham document away.  He kept remembering that painful scream that ripped from Miss Havisham’s throat and pierced his mind and heart.  It felt as if he was hearing it for the first time rather than eight months ago.

Just as Jaggers began putting on his coat, he heard a knock at the door. Did Tulkinghorn forget something? Or was it the clerk?  He went to the door and saw a young man in clothes much too large for him holding a note in his hand.

“For you, Sir.”

Jaggers quickly paid the boy and opened the note.  It was from his mother requesting he come for dinner. He bit his lip for a moment. He truly felt tired and would prefer a quiet evening but…he had not been home to see his parents in more than a week.  He knew putting this visit off would cause him more problems than he needed. It would be wiser to go before his parents began loudly protesting. Admittedly, his parents’ cook was better at her profession than his own. Bless Mrs. Francis and her attempts but her weakened sense of sight and smell did not necessarily make for good meals.  _Well then_ , he thought. _Off to dear Mother and Father_.

 

 

Jaggers entered his parents’ home about half an hour later.  His father, William Jaggers, had been a successful and well-known lawyer in his day. He retired three years ago and expected his sons to carry on the family name is his profession.   Only his middle son managed that accomplishment, much to his surprise.  Jaggers thanked the manservant for taking his hat and coat and he proceeded to the dining room where his parents would be waiting.  On his walk over, he dreaded what the invitation could be for.

Surely, there would not be another family with a young daughter (likely half his age) who would be sitting like a frightened deer.  His mother would overtly try to get him to speak to the young lady and her mother would do the same. In short, the dinner would be painful for both parties and the young woman and her family would not be seen again. Of course, this would also mean a long lecture from his parents about his time to find a nice young woman to settle with and do his rightful duty of having a family. 

Much to his relief, it was only his mother and father. His mother, Henrietta, was in a fine mood and she eagerly arose from her seat to embrace him.

“Edward, my darling! How nice of you to come after some time!” she beamed as she hugged her son tightly.

“Good evening, Mother. I apologize for my absence. You look well.” He said kindly and smiled genuinely for the first time that day.

“Edward, you must be famished. I heard Tulkinghorn is entrusting you with more cases.” His father said before motioning the servant to bring out dinner.

Jaggers greeted his father and gave half a shrug at that. “I am grateful for his guidance.” A lie but one that would please the older man.  He knew that Tulkinghorn and his father were members of some gentleman’s club together. It wouldn’t be prudent to complain about his senior partner in front of him and he knew his father would repeat it at the wrong time.  

“William, please refrain from any conversation referring to the law or your son’s work!”  Henrietta chided.

William profusely agreed with his wife. Jaggers found it surprising, to this day, to see his father be so placating towards his mother. He heard stories his father was a lion in the courtroom, booming and fierce. However, he acted like a lamb with his wife. He never raised his voice to his mother nor did he argue with her.  It was hard to believe his father could be two different people.

“Have you written to James, dear?” his mother asked him as they all sat for dinner.

“Ah…I believe I received a letter from him last month.” James answered. He knew what the follow-up question would be and no, he had not written back yet.

His mother frowned at him. “Really, Edward! You are the only one he is willing to write to! It is a rarity for him to write anything at all.”

Jaggers sighed inwardly.  James, the eldest of the Jaggers’s sons, had always been brash and impulsive. At first, their father chuckled at James’s antics, saying he had been that way as a young man and his eventual profession as a lawyer would temper it out. Except it had not. 

After his first year at University, James took a holiday in Italy and decided not to return to England and complete his studies.  Their mother wept and their father even went to Italy to bring him home. Jaggers was shocked beyond belief when his father (who never lost a case) returned to England alone.

James spent most of his days drinking wine, painting (rather poorly) and “being enlightened” by Italian bohemian sorts. James remained a sore subject for the family. Jaggers thoroughly enjoyed watching his mother make excuses for James’s absence.

“Will Michael be joining us?” Jaggers asked quickly to change the subject.  

His younger brother, Michael, at least had a profession but one that mildly annoyed the whole family. Michael chose to become part of the clergy. At first, the Jaggers’s were pleased with the respectable profession their youngest son had chosen. However, Michael was asked to go to India and help establish a church there. Michael remained in India for a grand total of three months before he returned to England.

During his time there, he felt he was an expert on the Indian people and what they needed. He often felt everyone around him needed this education too. Also upon his return, Michael developed a wonderful habit of correcting his family over the smallest details about Christian behavior or speech.  He would not be joining his family tonight since he recently argued with their mother for partaking in what he thought was too much wine and disparaged Jaggers for working on the Sabbath.

“No, darling. Perhaps next Sunday.” His mother replied offhandedly. Jaggers hid his smile when he saw his mother down her second glass of claret.   His father conveniently began tucking in so he would not have to say anything.

The dinner was mostly eaten in silence with small comments made here and there.  Jaggers slowly put down his napkin and cleared his throat.

“Have either of you heard anything about Satis House?”

His parents stopped eating for a moment. His mother looked upward as she thought about the name.

“Satis House…where have I heard that name before? Something noteworthy happened there earlier this year, yes?”

Jaggers nodded. “A most unfortunate incident concerning the owner of the house.  I was wondering if you heard anything about someone had taken new residence of it.”

At the word “unfortunate”, his father immediately became intrigued. “Oh? What was the unfortunate incident?”  Jaggers was not sure if he should chuckle at his father’s taste for gossip or if he should shake his head.

Truthfully, he did not know if he wanted to tell his family about what happened to Miss Havisham and her family. It would be cruel to talk about her that way when she had no ability to clarify or correct anything that was said. He felt oddly protective of her reputation, though it may have been well-known already of her being abandoned on her wedding day.

“I do not know the details. I just heard something our clerk was saying.”

This caused the elder Mr. Jaggers to lose interest and resume biting into his mashed potatoes.  However, his mother had a thought and was chasing after it.

“Is it that grand house on Babbage Street?”

“Yes. That is the one.”

“Are you inquiring because you are interested in purchasing?” She asked as she beckoned the servant to bring more wine.

“No, Mother. I have a house already.” Jaggers replied. It was a smaller house, compared to his parents’ property but he instantly liked it. It was cozy and ideal for a single gentleman and two servants.  His parents did not find think it was suitable enough to have a wife and children in.

“But why shouldn’t you want the Satis House? It would be perfect for you!” .

Jaggers scoffed. “It is too big! What would I do with all that space? I do not need that many servants and it would be much too costly to pay them all and maintain the house!”

Now William joined in, “I can speak to Mr. Tulkinghorn about promoting you to a senior partner if you wish?”

Jaggers cringed inwardly.  “I beg of you, please do not speak to him about a promotion! I would prefer to earn it on my own merit.”

“But think of it as an investment for your future! Someday, you will have a wife and children and let me be frank, your home is too small for that.” Henrietta insisted.

“That ‘someday’ you speak of is not currently present. There is no need for me to vacate my current home in exchange for something that is not practical now.”

She sniffed. “Well, someday could come sooner if you lived in a bigger home and a young lady could be assured she would live comfortably.”

Jaggers couldn’t prevent his annoyance from showing. “Mother, must we have this-“

“But you are in the prime of your life! You are thirty-three, you have a respectable career, you are intelligent, dutiful, and handsome. We must have this conversation because it is high time you start a family!” Henrietta protested. “Mrs. Corkingham has a lovely young niece and she speaks quite highly of her. She plans to-“

“If she is seventeen years old, I have no interest! She is a child compared to me.” Edward muttered darkly.

Henrietta pursed her lips, “She is eighteen if that is acceptable to your Lordship.”

“No!” Edward cried. “What could I possibly have in common with a woman so young? I’d feel like her father!”

“You won’t on the wedding night.” His father chimed in as he took a sip from his wine glass.

“FATHER!” Jaggers just about shrieked.  “I don’t want to-“

“Edward, you are becoming unsettled! Younger wives are able to have more children easily, that is all.” Henrietta stated firmly.  “Besides, I was twenty when I married your father and he was thirty-one.”

Jaggers sighed, “This isn’t the same. Father…” he trailed off. Jaggers’s parents were both attractive and striking people. Of course, they would fall in love with another. On top of their good looks, both were lively and interesting people.  

Henrietta, despite her incessant demands on him to marry, truly was a wonderful woman. She was kind, sensible, intelligent, and brave. She loved to laugh and had always been an affectionate mother to him and his brothers. In fact, she had been his biggest advocate that he would make an excellent solicitor despite his shy and introverted nature.    
  
Mrs. Jaggers knew exactly what her son wanted to say and it disappointed her greatly he did not see himself the way she saw him.  It pained her for all of Edward’s gifts and talents, he always saw himself as less.  As a child, Edward used to be bullied terribly for his quiet nature and interest in books and studying. He began withdrawing heavily from social activities and preferred being by himself.  He never broke the habit and as an adult man, it made it impossible for him to make any friends or meet women.

Henrietta was certain her son would make an excellent husband and any girl would be most fortunate to be married to him.  Despite his professorial and serious nature, she knew he took after her by being a romantic. He would want to know a woman and love her before marrying. Therefore, she did not outright betroth him or truly ramp up her efforts to introduce him to a well-bred and genteel girl.

The conversation had taken a bad turn so Henrietta dismissed her suggestions about taking Satis House and to talk about other things instead. She saw Edward visibly relax at that. They began to discuss trivial things about family happenings or their unfortunate neighbor’s son behaving rudely. 

It was close to ten o’ clock before Jaggers announced he should be going to his own home.

“Oh, but won’t you stay tonight, dearest? I’ll have Mary make your bed.”

Jaggers shook his head and smiled. “Perhaps next week, Mother. I have to finish some notes on a case before I return to the office.”

As Jaggers began proceeding out the door, his mother followed him outside. She hugged him a little longer than normal and it felt as if she was embracing him a little tighter. “Good night, darling. I am very happy you came to see us tonight. It means the world to your father and I when you come.”

Jaggers felt heat bloom across his cheeks and on the tips of his ears.  “Of course, Mother. I-I enjoy coming home as well.”

She looked at him with a strange expression on her face before stroking away a lock of his hair. “I know it is wrong for me to say this as a mother but…you know I think of you as my most precious of sons, do you not?”

He ducked his head a little, feeling a tight ache in his chest. “You don’t have to-“

“It is true. Your father and I are deeply proud of you and…we truly want you to be happy.”

Jaggers blinked rapidly to keep the stinging in his eyes away. “I am happy, Mama. I have you and Father.”

He had not called his mother “Mama” since he was a child. Henrietta smiled and kissed him on his cheek. “Go on now, back to your little cottage. Tell Mrs. Francis to make you a Full English tomorrow. ”

Jaggers chuckled at his mother’s teasing of his house and her insistence that he eat more. He waved goodbye to her once more before proceeding down the street.

 

As he walked, he kept thinking about his mother’s words to him throughout the evening. She said she wanted him to be happy and he insisted he was but was he? He never told anyone the real reason why he took his house. It was small because he didn’t feel so alone in it. A large house would make him overly conscious of the silence that would fill the hallways and rooms. Even when he stayed over at his parents’ home, it was unbearably silent sometimes.  That sort of silence made him cogently aware of how alone he really was.

Jaggers knew perfectly well he didn’t try very hard when it came to looking for a wife. His parents, unlike him, were exceptionally social people and often hosted plenty of gatherings in their home. He would make an appearance from time to time but generally avoided the gatherings. At least in his case, his mother would be telling the truth when she explained his work kept him from coming.  Jaggers knew nothing of ill consequence would happen if he went to a dinner party one night of the week to meet people.  However, he always felt terribly uncomfortable in such settings.

He was acutely aware of people looking at him, comparing him to other gentlemen, asking personal questions about his nature, or speculating on his actions and words.  One unusually phrased sentence, not smiling at an asinine story, would cost him dearly among his parents’ guests.   He overheard on more than one occasion that he was “an odd fellow” or it was a shame that he did not inherit his father’s affableness or his mother’s charm.  

 

Jaggers finally returned home and was greeted by Mrs. Francis, his housemaid. The older woman reminded him of a hen in human form. Nurturing and protective, but loud and bustling.  Her husband, Mr. Francis, also was in Jaggers’s employ as his manservant. 

“Will you be requiring a bath, Sir?” Mrs. Francis asked as she took his coat. “I’ll have John draw one now.”

“Tomorrow morning, if you please. It is quite late and I am sure Mr. Francis would like his rest.”

“And for breakfast tomorrow? A full English?”

Jaggers thought for a moment. “No, just toast and coffee will be acceptable.”

Before Mrs. Francis could protest, he quickly cut in. “Did our little fellow come by today?”

The “little fellow” Jaggers referred to was a small tabby cat who began frequenting Jagger’s property.  One morning, Jaggers looked up out the window and saw the poor sod soaked by the rain and staring pitifully into the window back at him.  He gave the cat the remainder of his lunch and instructed Mrs. Francis to leave him a bowl of milk.  For the last three months, the cat would regularly come by for food and returned the favor by killing mice in the small garden.  

“He did, indeed, Sir. He’s beginning to look quite handsome now that he has some meat on his bones. He killed two mice today!”

Jaggers smiled, “Good, then.  I will retire now. Good night, Mrs. Francis.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jaggers readied himself for bed and sat at his desk to finish his notes on the Bulfinch case. However, he couldn’t bring himself to write anything down. Perhaps he was too tired now to do any more work. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and got up but as he did, he heard Miss Havisham’s pained scream in his mind once again. Ever since he saw her name on that paper, he kept hearing it on and off through the evening.  Jaggers desperately tried to put it out of his mind but it lodged itself firmly there and refused to be forgotten about again. 

_Whatever happened to Miss Amelia Havisham?_

Why was he thinking of this now? Why did it trouble him so much even after so much time had passed?  He also recalled the way she angrily scolded him for not knowing his place when he investigated Mr. Compeyson without her permission.  He was stunned to see such a normally composed woman look so enraged at him.

He, too, had been fuming when she left since she was acting foolishly and had no right to scold him for looking after her.  Then she had the gall to say no one tried to warn or help her before Compeyson admitted the truth!   Everyone was trying to help her and she was blinded by the rake! It was all her fault for not listening and dismissing everyone she knew. Amelia Havisham deserved the mess she made!

Jaggers instantly felt guilty for his bitter thoughts towards his former client.  No one deserved to be humiliated and tricked in such a dreadful way, especially not someone like her.  No one deserved the gossip that ensued for weeks afterward. People mocked the Havisham name, laughing about how stupid she was. Only weeks before, men and women were cooing and gushing over what a handsome couple Miss Havisham and Mr. Compeyson would make. 

The same people now all stated they knew Compeyson was dishonorable and wicked. If Miss Havisham couldn’t see that, then it was only fitting she was deceived that way.  Jaggers remembered being affronted when he heard some dinner guests at his parents’ house saying Miss Havisham was “damaged goods” and no one would want her now. 

Miss Havisham was simply a lonely woman, who lost her father and had a brother who hated her.  Why wouldn’t she be taken by someone as handsome and charming as Compeyson?  When everyone left her, willingly or unwillingly, Compeyson insisted on being by her side. Only to break her heart and ruin her name in one fell swoop. 

Yet…she wasn’t as lonely as she thought. Jaggers would have been there if she needed him. Why, he had been there! He advocated strongly for her not just to Arthur but the shareholders and board members. Jaggers believed in her, supported her, and would have done anything she asked of him!  She just…she just didn’t see him.  Even now, he’d be her friend and champion without hesitation.

Suddenly, an idea occurred to Jaggers.  He immediately returned to his desk and drew out a fresh sheet of paper.   He would not sign it, lest she chose not to speak to him. Jaggers doubted she would write back. If she did, he would know something about what happened to her. If not, he would accept it and put her out of his mind for good. 

Jaggers was unsure what to write at first. He also wanted to avoid alerting her as to who he was through specific questions or the way he wrote.  He thought for a few minutes before he remembered an anecdote about her that her father shared with him once.  He smiled to himself and began his letter.

 

“Dear Miss Havisham, “

* * *

  
Author's Note:  
I have no idea what Mr. Jaggers's first name really is so please excuse the creative license here. If someone knows it, please tell me so I can fix it. This story is set more in the Dickensian (TV) universe rather than the Great Expectations so the time period for this story is 1861 rather than the early 1800s as the book is.    
  
Please do not hesitate to correct any historical inaccuracies or spelling and grammar errors. I am currently un-beta'd and I appreciate any constructive criticism.   
  
Cheers! 


	2. Chapter 2

Cold. She was always cold.  It was the frigid air causing her to stir from her sleep.  Amelia Havisham blinked awake slowly. She winced at the feeling of some beadwork poking into her waist.  Carefully, she sat up on her bed and rubbed her eyes.

She still wore that damned wedding dress. It was only removed when she bathed and even that was an infrequent occurrence.  Amelia remembered when Katie, one of the last remaining maids, tried to coax her to take a bath some days after the wedding date.

_“Please, Miss! Maybe a nice hot bath would do you some good. My mam always said one can feel better if they wash away their troubles by a good hot bath!”_

_Amelia looked up and fixed Katie with a sour look. “I am not in the mood.”_

_“But, Miss, surely you might want-“_

_“I SAID NO! I WILL NOT TAKE OFF THIS GOWN UNTIL MY HEART HAS HEALED! WERE YOU NOT LISTENING, YOU STUPID GIRL?!” Amelia roared._

_Katie stepped back as if she had been slapped but stood her ground. “I was listening, Ma’am. You can put the gown back on after you wash. I promise I won’t do anything to it while you are in the bath.”_

_“GET OUT! GET OUT NOW!” Amelia screamed and she threw a crystal glass at Katie._

_Three days later, Amelia began to feel that the odor coming from her hair and body were becoming unbearable even for her. Annoyed about conceding to Katie, she impatiently rang her bell for the maid._

_“Yes, Ma’am?”_

_“Ready a bath for me. Do not touch the dress. Leave it exactly as it is. I will put it back on afterward.”_

Sometimes, sat in the bath for hours, unmoving and stiff. Katie would rush in to see what happened to her. _She probably thinks I drowned myself. Not a terrible idea,_ she thought bitterly.   Katie would patiently wash Amelia’s hair and gently scrub the dirt and grime from her. Amelia would say nothing as Katie bathed her.  No act of kindness of friendship could move her in the slightest.   She would stand in the same stiff manner when Katie dressed her in the fraying wedding gown. It hung on her now when before, Amelia wore it beautifully.  On her wedding day, she remembered how surprised and delighted she felt upon seeing herself as a bride. She was not a vain girl but she did feel beautiful that day. 

Now…when she saw her reflection and that gown hanging off of her, she knew she looked ugly. Like a wicked she-demon set upon earth…or a witch. _That is why Meriwether chose the money over you. That is why everyone runs from you, you ugly, horrid bitch._

Amelia startled at the pitter-pat knock on her door.  She cleared her throat to make herself sound less sleepy.  “Come in, Katie.”

Katie smiled sweetly at her mistress. “Good morning, Miss! Did you sleep well?”

Amelia internally rolled her eyes at Katie’s cheeriness. It grated on her nerves and it was off-putting to her that one could be so happy in such an unhappy home. It was like laughing during a funeral.

“Would you like some breakfast, Miss?”

“No,” Amelia replied flatly.  Unfortunately, her stomach rumbled loudly, contradicting her earlier statement.  Amelia inhaled sharply with irritation.

“I’ll prepare some porridge. It’s a cold day out and there’s nothing quite like a hot bowl.”

Amelia shook her head. “Leave it. Porridge sounds dreadful.”

“But you must eat something, Miss! What about some fruit preserves and toast?”

Amelia paused at that. “Just bring the preserves. No toast.”

Katie looked confused but immediately recovered her expression.  At least the lady was agreeing to eat something.  “Absolutely! Tea as well?”

“Fine.”

Katie scampered out of the room. Amelia slowly got up from the bed and shuffled to her bedroom window. She pushed a curtain back and peered out.  _Life goes on…but not for me_ , she thought sadly.  Amelia had the rest of the windows through the house boarded up except for one from her bedroom window. She left it alone in case…

_In case he comes back and tells me it was all a dream. In case he says he was forced to lie to me because everyone was jealous of our love._

Amelia shook her head at herself, willing herself not to cry again.  Crying only made her head hurt and sometimes the pain would be so unbearable, she would vomit.  Of course, she ate so little that she just spat up a small globule.  Her stomach would ache horribly and she felt the acidic and sour taste on her tongue for hours until she forced herself to slowly sip some water.

She pulled herself from the bedroom window and was about to use her toilet. As she crossed the room, she caught glimpse of herself in the mirror. Well, not a very good glance since the glass was covered with a layer of dust. 

Her hair was matted and dreadfully tangled. It had grown so long that it weighed heavily on her head and neck.  Deep, purple-black, puffy circles emanated from her below her eyes. _How odd_ , she thought dryly. She spent so much time sleeping but she always looked so tired. Her cheekbones were unnaturally prominent and her jawline much too sharp. Amelia was only twenty-four but she looked much older.  To be frank, she didn’t even really look human.  Her head looked oddly large for her neck. Her collarbones looked as if they would burst through the paper-thin skin.  Her lips were cracked and scabbed too…she looked-

_“You look like your mother, Mellie.” Her father said proudly. It was her twentieth birthday. A grand party had been thrown for her and she had just finished dressing. Her father, Reginald, wished to speak to Amelia privately before they went down to receive their guests._

_“If only, Papa,” Amelia replied shyly.  She had heard from aunts, uncles, and cousins her mother had been considered a great beauty.  Her mother had begun receiving marriage proposals when she was only thirteen!  To be told she looked just like her mother made her feel small and shy._

_“I do not jest! When I first saw her, I thought I must have been graced into Heaven.  You are like her in all the best ways, my child.” Her father maintained._

_“Thank you, Papa.” She eagerly embraced her father.  Amelia never knew her mother and it felt as though Arthur and her father were her everything._

_He winked at her conspiratorially, “I have a small gift for you.  But I want you to open it here instead of among all the guests.”_

_Amelia grinned delightedly and eagerly opened the small box in her father’s palm.  Inside was a delicate gold necklace with a lovely emerald pendant._

_“Papa! It’s beautiful! Oh, where did you find such an incredible necklace?”_

_“It belonged to your mother and it was given to her by her mother. A special thing, this necklace is.”_

_“Can I wear it now? I want everyone to see it!”_

_“Patience, my dear! Though I am giving it to you today, I had instructions from your mother to have you wear it on your wedding day.”_

The memory made Amelia choke on a sob.  She began to weep, sobbing as she sank to the floor.  _Why did you leave me, Papa? Why did you leave me alone in this cruel, wicked world? You promised to protect me! You did not protect me from him! He hurt me and you weren’t there, Papa! Come home! Please come home!_

  
Katie paused outside of her mistress’s bedroom door and hesitated. She could hear loud sobbing from inside.  Despite Katie’s cheerfulness around her employer, she felt truly awful for the lady.  She remembered a time when Miss Havisham was not like this. Her mistress had been a kind and lively woman. She was firm but decent to the staff. Miss Havisham once had many interests and activities that filled her day and now, getting her to leave her room required Herculean patience and effort. 

Katie wondered if it was wise to go in when Miss Havisham was crying that way but instead she refrained, carrying away the preserves jar. Yet another day in Satis House.

 

* * *

 

 

Hours later, Amelia awoke off the floor.  She blinked confusedly and looked around. She had slept so deeply that it took her a moment to remember how she ended up on the floor. It was already dark outside. Amelia had slept until noon earlier and now it was likely evening when she awoke again. Her stomach growled painfully and her head ached.  She weakly arose from the floor and rang for Katie.  Amelia instructed her maid to bring her something small to eat. “The preserves from this morning. If we still have them.”

“Of course, Miss! Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. You received a letter!”

Amelia looked up, unsure if she heard correctly. “A letter?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Would you like me to bring it up?”

“Who is it from?” Amelia questioned, voice sharp with suspicion. “If it is from Arthur or anyone in my family, tear it up.”

“Ah, no. There is no name on the envelope.  I don’t know who resides at 41 Arch Road.”

Amelia’s mind kicked into high gear. What address was that? She had not heard of anyone who lived at 41 Arch Road. Who would send her anonymous mail?

Suddenly, she froze. What if...what if it was him? What if he wrote to her? What could he possibly say to her now, so many months later? Half of Amelia wanted desperately to know if Compeyson had been forced to deceive her, needing money for that shrew of a wife.  Maybe he was finally free of her and wanted to return to her, at last.  Maybe he would truly free her from this wretched prison! They would leave England altogether, forgetting their past.  It would all be new and…

Amelia felt her hands curl into a fist, her nails digging deeply into her palm. _No,_ she thought angrily.  Never again. Never again to that pathetic, evil, and wicked monster.  Hadn’t he done enough? Had Compeyson not broken her heart and soul? Why should she want to go anywhere with him, let alone read anything he had to say?! _The blackguard deserves to hang. He deserves to be drawn and quartered, burned, and his remains thrown to the wolves! Damn Compeyson! Damn him to hell a thousand times over!_

“Katie…if it is from…from him….I want you to burn it. Immediately.” Amelia ground out.

Katie blinked slowly. “I, ah…I don’t think it is, Ma’am.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well, why don’t you read it? Mrs. Dawkins checked it first.”

Amelia was still on edge but much of her previous anger evaporated. “All right. Bring it over.”

Katie reached into her pocket. “I’ll go and bring your preserves, Miss.”  She excused herself, leaving Amelia alone with the letter.

 

Amelia stared at the envelope in her hand.  The envelope was standard enough. The handwriting certainly did not belong to Compeyson. She remembered Compeyson had a bold and vivid penmanship. _Arrogant and shameless_ , she thought with distaste.  This penmanship was different. It was small and compact, neat and in a row.  She couldn’t recall anyone with this sort of hand but it was not as though people wrote to her often. Was it a relative asking for money? No, she told herself. They would have put their name on it.  Did this person even want anything from her? _Open it and find out._

With trembling fingers, she carefully opened the letter.  She scanned it once but she was so baffled by it she had to reread it.

 

_Dear Miss Havisham,_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and peace.  It has been some time since we spoke but I recently thought of you and wondered about your current whereabouts.  If you are not Miss Havisham and you are reading this letter, I ask that you stop reading other people’s correspondences and have a good think about your abysmal behavior._

_If you are Miss Havisham, I would like to know the answers to the following questions. Indulge me, if you please._

_1) I have no voice, yet I speak to you. I tell of all things in the world what people do. I have_ _leaves but I am not a tree. I have pages, but I am not a bride. I have a spine, but I am not a man. I have hinges, but I am not a door. I have told you all, I cannot tell you more. Who am I?_

 

_2) When I am young, I am sweet in the sun. When I am middle-aged, I make you gay. When I am old, I am valued more than ever. Who am I?_

_3) As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Each wife had seven sacks. Each sack had seven cats. Each cat had seven kits. Kits, cats, sacks, and wives. How many were going to St. Ives?_

_I am confident that you, Miss Havisham, will be able to correctly guess all three.  I would be much obliged if you answered them and told me the solutions in your letter._

_I eagerly await your letter._

_Yours,_

_E_

 

Amelia felt something very odd happen to her. The corners of her mouth tugged upward as she reread the letter again and again.  Who was this mysterious E?  Amelia sat down at the table of her vanity and pondered over the identity of the letter writer. Was E a real person or was it a random letter selected to hide who the person was? Clearly, the person knew her well. Well enough to know that long ago, puzzles and riddles used to be a great interest of hers.  

  _“Come here, Mellie. If you are a good girl, I shall tell you a riddle. I want you to think very hard about the solution.” Her father coaxed._

_“What is it, Papa?” Amelia inquired. She was nine years old at this time. Her nanny was begging for her to come inside but she was much happier beneath her special tree.  Amelia would much rather play with her dolls outside among the trees and sunshine than inside their stuffy house!_

_“Come, child. Come inside and I will tell you.”_

_Amelia gathered up her dolls, running inside. She could barely hear her nanny calling after her that proper ladies did not run. Her father was smiling indulgently at her as she scampered to him.  With a laugh, he swooped her up and hugged her tightly. His beard and mustache tickled her face and she squealed with delight._

_“Stop it, Papa! It tickles!” she giggled._

_As he carried her inside he asked her the first riddle. “Now, Mellie. What can be broken before you use it?”_

_Amelia stared at her father. “I don’t understand.”_

_“Think, girl. Listen again. ‘What can be broken before you use it?”_

_Amelia felt embarrassed over not knowing. “I don’t know…”_

_He shook his head. “None of that, dear. You will find the answer. “_

_“How?”_

_He looked closely at her, almost intently. “It is important you ask questions. Think about what I say and more importantly, think about what I do not say.  I want you to ask, I want you to read, I want you to consider all you know before you guess. That is very important. “_

Amelia steeled herself to not lapse into tears again thinking of her dear Papa.  She shook her head furiously and pinched her thigh to stop thinking about him. 

She heard Katie knock at the door. She arose to answer the door and swiftly took the preserve jar from her maid. Before she closed the door, she suddenly stopped to ask Katie a question.

“Do we know anyone named ‘E’ or anyone whose name starts with ‘E’?”

Katie stared at her blankly. “Why…I imagine so but there a lot of people! I wouldn’t know where to start.”

Amelia bit her lip as she pondered the possibilities. “Never mind. You may go.”

After she closed the door after Katie, she took her preserves jar back to her vanity table. She held the letter in her other hand and reread it for the fourth time.  E…who on earth was E?  Hastily, Amelia grabbed a dip pen and began scribbling down names of everyone she knew with names that began with E on the back of the letter.

She could only come up with thirteen names and at least nine of them were relatives.  Only four remained on her list. Amelia stared hard at the list, still unclear and just as befuddled before.

 _“Don’t guess until you have all the information”_ she heard her father’s voice say in her head.

Well, …she could always write back, couldn’t she? She could ask her questions there too.  Although, Amelia doubted the mystery writer would tell her anything right away.  Or, perhaps…Amelia began to smile weakly, the person who wrote this letter was most suspicious of anyone who was not she reading the letter and would wait to hear from her before revealing their identity. 

Very well, she thought. I have nothing better to do.  Play your little game, I shall.

* * *

Amelia, who slept during most of the day, was wide awake.  She sat at her table, intently studying the letter in one hand. In the other, she would dip a small spoon into the preserves and lick the end of it. She wasn’t much interested in the preserves as she was with the letter and the riddles.  There was a time when Amelia could solve riddles like this in a matter of seconds. Unfortunately, the lack of stimuli and activity over the last few months made her unfocused and slow.  

She reread the first riddle at least three times.  It was much too cryptic and oddly written.  As she studied the riddle again, she remembered some advice her father once gave her.

_“If you have been given a lot of information, write things down. Those who wish to fool you will tell you a great deal of nonsense with the important details hidden among it all.  Write down what makes sense and what does not.”_

Amelia pursed her lips and began rooting around her table for some spare paper. None to be found.  She grabbed her bell and rang it loudly.  It took a few minutes but a very sleepy Katie came up.

“Yes, Miss?” She blinked several times to look as though she was awake too.

“Have we any paper?”

“Paper, Ma’am?”

“Yes. That is what I said. Do we have any?” Amelia had not turned around to look at Katie just yet.

“We might…but it is in your father’s study. You told us…I mean me that no one could go in there.”

Amelia did indeed say that. However, she needed to solve this puzzle! 

“Never mind. I will get it myself.”

Katie meekly asked if Amelia wished for anything else. As Amelia was getting up, she was hit with a pang of guilt when she saw her maid standing in her dressing gown and attempting to hide her yawn.  _Shame on you, Amelia! You were not raised to treat your staff so inconsiderately! There was no need to wake her and then retract your demand. Your father would be appalled at this!_

Amelia, for the first time in months, did something that was the closest to her former self.

“Thank you, Katie, for coming when I rang. I apologize for waking you at this hour. Ah…please, take the morning off tomorrow so you may recover your rest.”

Katie stared at her with surprise. “What was that, Miss?”

“Take the morning off. I know it can be difficult to go back to sleep after you have been woken in the middle of the night.  Besides, I will likely be asleep too so there is no need for you to be awake so early.”

Katie stammered out her thanks and scurried away before Amelia changed her mind.   Amelia swiftly moved through the house and reached her father’s study.  Did she really want to go in there for a piece of paper? Was it worth it? Did she really want to dig up all these bad memories?  Amelia cried so much already today and she didn’t want to subject herself to more tears and sadness for something so trivial.

_“Papa, why do you have a study? What do you study in there? Do you have to write arithmetic too?” Amelia asked her father once._

_“Not quite, Mellie. A study is just a quiet room where I can do my work. I can concentrate better in that room and I feel comfortable there.  You are right, though. I do have to write some arithmetic in there.” He winked at her when he said that.  Amelia took after him in that she rather enjoyed maths and numbers.  Then again, his daughter enjoyed lessons and education in general._

_“When I grow up, can I have a study?” she asked as she swung off of his arm as they walked to Llewellyn’s Book Shop._

_Her father laughed aloud. “You already have a study, Mellie! Any room in that house is yours! Just because I use it, it doesn’t mean that you cannot use it too.  You can even be there when I am but you must promise to be quiet and only do your work there. That’s what makes it different from the rest of the house.”_

_From that day forward, that room became Amelia’s favorite._

_It was her room too,_ she told herself. Father said so! There was no harm in going in to take the paper from there.  Amelia took a deep breath and carefully turned the doorknob.  She coughed several times when she entered. The room smelled of stale air and dust but…she did not hate it when she went inside.

Rather, this room actually felt lived in and loved.  After a moment, she thought she could smell the faint scent of her father’s cologne and soap. She closed her eyes and imagined perfectly her father sitting at the larger desk, spectacles perched low on his nose as he read his brewery documents. Amelia would be seated in the armchair (she always ended sitting on the floor with a cushion) as she wrote her lessons from her tutor.  Neither of them would be speaking but she always felt happy to just be near him. 

She felt tears blur her vision but she continued into the room and went to her father’s desk.  Hesitantly, she opened it and found a large stack of quality paper.  She couldn’t fight the little smile that crossed her lips. She remembered when she grew older, she used to laugh at how persnickety her father was about paper and pens. Amelia took four sheets and as she closed the drawer, her gaze fell on a bookshelf full of old books from her childhood.  Some of the spines were cracked and-

Wait….spines were in a book. The riddle said it had a spine but was not a man. There were pages in a book. A book had hinges.  Amelia was powerless against the smile that erupted across her face. She solved it. After two hours of being unable to focus and feeling slow, she solved it finally! 

It was remarkable how the joy radiated from her chest to her neck and face.  Amelia had, after months feeling worthless and low, felt happy.  There were many things she could not do but…she could solve a puzzle and it felt like a start.

Eagerly, Amelia jogged back up the stairs and grabbed the letter from the vanity table.  She was about to sit down but hovered over the seat.  Perhaps…she needed a better environment. Maybe she needed to go back to a room where she could properly study.

With that, she marched off to her father’s study.  That was the room where serious thinking and work was to be done.

 

* * *

 

After her success with her first puzzle, Amelia eagerly read the second.   _Let’s see_ , she thought as she took the first blank sheet.  She began to write down words she thought were important.

                _Young                   Sweet                    Sun (?)_

_Middle-aged      Gay_

_Old                         Valuable_

 

Amelia tapped the end of the pen against her chin.  Was sun an important word? Why were the ages necessary to mention?  Amelia set the pen down and steepled her hands. 

_Sometimes answers can be found in books…sometimes they can be found in unlikely places. Books are often the best start because it might help you remember the unlikely places._

Amelia got up and began looking through her father’s library. She coughed repeatedly as she wiped the thick layers of dust settled on the books.  Perhaps Katie or Mrs. Dawkins could come in tomorrow and tidy up the study.   Her eyes were watering by the time she found the perfect book. It was a book of collected and assorted riddles.  Did Father purchase this for her? He must have…oh, it was for her sixteenth birthday!  She remembered annoying Arthur terribly by following him around the house and asking him riddles from it. He did not possess the same level of interest in the riddles as she did.  She pulled the heavy book out and carried it over to the desk.  
  
She paused for a moment, wondering if this was cheating.  Then she smiled to herself. Mr. or Ms. E would not have to know that she was simply using her resources. 

_Do not volunteer more information than necessary. Speak when you must and make sure each word you say is meant for the person listening._

Amelia turned to the end of the book to look through an index for any of the words she wrote down.  She jotted down the page numbers for each word to detect a common pattern.  She smiled when she saw page 52 occur at least three times.   _There,_ she thought to herself. _If she had to put effort into finding the answer, then she certainly wasn’t cheating._

She scanned page 52 and immediately found the riddle. The answer was wine.  She shook her head upon reading the response.  Amelia did think she should have spent that amount of time trying to decipher the riddle, but here she was.  Oh well, she at least felt productive for having done that.

Amelia then consulted the letter for the third riddle.  _Aha!_ she thought triumphantly. This riddle made the classic mistake of adding too much fluff and nonsense to detract from the answer to the riddle. This one was much simpler.  The pedestrian on the way to St. Ives was the only individual going to that destination.  

All three riddles were such delightful distractions from her unhappiness and heartache. For once, she was able to spend a waking hour not being angry or sad.  It felt freeing.  On top of that, she was in her father’s study. A room she had been so uncomfortable to go inside but nothing bad happened the whole time.   She began to feel sleepy again and decided she had enough for today.  She glanced back at the letter before she exited the room.  _Until tomorrow, E._

 

When she awoke later that day, Amelia felt a little different. She had a task for the day and that was to write back to E. Amelia tried to remember the last time she woke up with things to do.  Perhaps the wedding day but this felt wonderfully regular.  Having the job of answering the letter made her feel…normal. 

She could hear Katie and Mrs. Dawkins downstairs.  Amelia reached for the bell but thought better of it. Amelia would answer the letter first and then she would ask Katie for some tea. She softly descended the stairs to the study and thought of another thing she could add to her list of things.  She could get this room cleaned up and she could begin regularly coming here to read more riddles.

  
Amelia sat down at the desk and drew another sheet of paper and pen. With a trembling hand, she began to write.

 

Dear E,

 

* * *

The answer to the riddle Amelia's father asked her "What must be broken before use?" is an egg.     
  



	3. Chapter 3

6:00 AM

Jaggers’s eyes fluttered open before looking out the window. The sky was still a bit dark but it was beginning to lighten into a blue-grey color.  The right corner of his mouth tugged upward when he saw the small tabby cat waddling to and fro past the window.  _Good morning, Sir_ , he thought drolly.  

Jaggers watched the cat for a few minutes longer, allowing his sleepiness to completely dissipate before getting up. Earlier, he thought he heard Mr. Francis pouring water into the tub for him but he was too sleepy to rouse himself from bed then.  Jaggers was the sort to rise early but he tended to sleep late in the night.  It wasn’t exactly something he intended.

He went to bed by 10:30 PM sharp but his mind seemed to become increasingly active at that time. Sometimes he would imagine scenarios of standing up to Mr. Tulkinghorn, reliving embarrassing moments over his life, telling off his parents’ nosier friends, successfully wooing a pretty woman…they all seemed to mesh together in his brain. It would take hours before Jaggers would finally fall asleep.  More often than not, he would be roused by the ships coming into a dock or some merchant wheeling his cart of goods.  It would always be too early but he’d get out of bed just the same.

Jaggers prepared for his day as usual. Bath first in scalding hot water (it seemed to wake him up better), cleaning his teeth and then a quick shave.  Years before, he tried growing facial hair but it looked awkward and ridiculous on him.  His father wore a bead since as long as he could remember. His father looked manly and dignified.  He on the other hand…

_He was not supposed to overhear. Edward had been told countless times by his nanny eavesdropping was rude and unseemly. He could not help himself! He needed to do so he knew everything that was happening.  Edward hated surprises and being unaware…even if it had nothing to do with him._

_He peered around the corner to make sure Mary was not coming. Edward carefully put his ear to the door._

_“Henrietta, you must stop coddling the boy! I saw his schoolmaster the other day and do you know what he told me? He cries as if he were a little girl! Over the smallest things! I can assure you, if a boy drew on my coat, I would have made it clear to him never to do it again! What does our son do? He weeps!”_

_“William, you are worrying far too much about nothing! Children grow out of these behaviors! Just because Edward chooses not to fight does not mean he is a weak child! He has many strengths and perhaps fighting is not one of them!”_

_His father said something he couldn’t quite hear. Something to do with James…stronger...he couldn’t tell. Then…_

_“Perhaps he should have been a girl instead! It wouldn’t be so humiliating if it were so. I dread to think what he would be like as a man! Weak, mewling…crying at the drop of a hat! He will never be taken seriously in his older years! What kind of man behaves like that?!”_

_Edward walked away slowly from the door.  He felt sick to his stomach and his eyes burned but he did not cry. He could not let himself cry._

_He would never allow himself to shed a tear again._

 

Jaggers shook his head furiously at the unwanted memory. He bore no resentment towards his father. As a man with such a bold and powerful air, naturally, it would disturb him that he had a son so meek and timid. Jaggers did, however, prove his mother right. While physical feats of strength had not been his strong suit, he prevailed with his intelligence and willpower. He did not give into weakness.  Unlike James (who his father once prized above all others), he was strong enough to be responsible and do the right thing. Unlike Michael, Jaggers was strong enough to follow in his father’s footsteps. 

 _Enough_ , he told himself. _Don’t work yourself into a fret before you even start work_.  Firmly shoving the memory away, he continued readying for work.

As he proceeded to the dining room to eat, Mrs. Francis was carrying a large tray into the dining room. Jaggers was puzzled to see such a tray. He was quite certain he told her last night to only prepare toast.

“Are you expecting someone for breakfast, Mrs. Francis?”

“I received a note from Mrs. Jaggers with firm instructions to make you something more substantial than toast.”

 _Oh, Mother!_ He internally rolled his eyes at his mother sending notes about his eating habits.  “Mrs. Francis, I-“

“A mother’s orders, Mr. Jaggers. Must obey them, shall we? Oh, and last night, I forgot to tell you that the younger Mr. Jaggers will be arriving as well.”

Jaggers paused at that. _Oh dear,_ he thought. Was Michael coming? Did Michael not understand that Jaggers worked on Saturday mornings? Why for breakfast? The evening would have been more appropriate…unless it was something urgent.

“Very well, Mrs. Francis. Thank you. I suppose I shall not begin to dine until Michael arrives?”

 

Except…Michael was late. As always. Jaggers checked his pocket watch once more and sighed with annoyance.  Jaggers would have been out the door at this point! What was taking his brother so long? Jaggers frowned darkly as he realized he would not have time to eat if Michael delayed any longer.  With a harrumph, Jaggers rose up and gulped down his tea. He would tell Mrs. Francis to advise Michael to come later in the evening. 

Just as Jaggers proceeded out the front door, Michael came to the front, strolling as if he had all the time in the world.

“Good Morning, Edward!” Michael announced cheerfully.

Jaggers barely smiled and nodded. “Hello. You were late and I must go.”

“Go where?”

“Michael….” Jaggers warned.

“Then I shall walk with you. Did Mrs. Francis not tell you I would be coming? Truly, Edward, you must consider finding a housemaid who is less forgetful.”

“No. There is nothing wrong with my housekeeper. She told me but you were late which in turn is causing me to be late! Do not blame Mrs. Francis.” Jaggers replied tersely.

Michael said nothing to that and conveniently changed the subject. “Mother has been inquiring about where you have been lately.”

Jaggers scoffed aloud, “I was at dinner with them last night. More than I can say for you.”

Michael gave him a sidelong glance. “Smugness does not suit you, brother.”

 Jaggers bit his lip to not yell at Michael for being so insufferable.  Michael, though irritating to a fault, was certainly cunning. He conveniently wore his white cravat with his black suit.  If Jaggers were to scold him, it would look as if he was berating a priest in public.

“What did you need to speak to me about? I would suggest an evening visit would be more suitable if it can wait.”

Jaggers began to walk rapidly, knowing he had a much faster gait than his younger brother. He had to bite down a grin when he saw Michael miserably failing to keep up.

“Slow down, Edward! I have been meaning to ask you for a charitable contribution.”  Michael was huffing at this point.

Jaggers paused and slowed down. “Charitable contribution? Towards what?”

Ordinarily, Jaggers would not blink an eye over giving money away to a parish or his mother’s charity group.  However, if Michael was asking, he had to think twice.   Jaggers had a sneaking suspicion it would not all go to the cause he said it would.

“Orphans in India,” Michael replied swiftly. “You see when I was in India…”

Jaggers began to tune his younger brother out. Every time Michael began a sentence like that, he knew he was in for a sermon he did not need or want.  Each time Michael cited India for something, Jaggers doubted if Indians were receiving Michael’s help. For him, they may have made a powerful selling point but Jaggers noticed Michael’s the upgrades made to his parish and his vicarage house.  Now, he knew it would be tricky to point those things out without starting a fight with a religious institution and as a solicitor, he knew full well when to pick his battles. This was not one of them.

“How much do you need for the parish, Michael?” He cut in flatly.

“Me?! Heavens, I do not-“

“Michael, please be candid with me. If you tell me plainly you need money for the church, I will gladly give it to you.  However, your work in India has long been over and there are plenty of clergies who are serving there and attending Indian orphans. Now, how much?”

“Thirty shillings.”

Jaggers nearly laughed aloud. “Thirty shillings? What do you need that much money for?"

Michael frowned. “I hardly see how that is any of your concern, Edward.”

“My concern?! I am giving you money, Michael! I think I have every right to ask what you plan to do with my, as you say, charitable contribution.”

Michael sighed, “I am losing parishioners. There is a church, not five miles from where I am and it continues to receive more in number. The money will help make some changes to attract more people.”

Jaggers wanted to ask why he was losing parishioners but he thought better of it. He knew it was going to be a long story about how everyone was else was to blame and Michael had no part in the matter. Jaggers privately associated Michael with his loss of interest in going to church.  Clerics like his brother annoyed him with their attitudes of superiority and dare he say hypocrisy.

As a boy, Jaggers never understood why his questions were soundly dismissed as heretical or inappropriate to ask.  For many years, he stopped believing in a higher being but could never admit it out loud.

It wasn’t until his mother became gravely ill and nearly died four years ago did some of his faith return.  A local vicar named Thomas Brown regularly checked on his mother, prayed for the family, and offered support in any way.  During that time, Jaggers and Vicar Brown began to regularly discuss faith and religion. The vicar was a kindly and patient man who encouraged Jaggers to ask any question he wanted. More importantly, Vicar Brown would openly admit if he did not know the answer to something.  Jaggers instantly approved of the vicar’s humility and honest nature.  If Vicar Brown did not know something, he would read and encourage fair dialogue to find an acceptable answer. 

Unlike other clerics, Vicar Brown read secular literature and took great interest in science and technology.  He did not press Jaggers to attend church regularly but encouraged the actions of good works and charity above all else.  Jaggers was shocked when Vicar Brown said church meant nothing if one could not be bothered to provide food for a starving child.  HIs comportment and speech convinced Jaggers perhaps faith could be a good guiding point for how to live one's life. 

Jaggers still did not regularly attend church but when he did…he was attending the parish not five miles from Michael’s. 

He wanted to tell Michael to ask their parents but he did not want his older parents to continually financially support their youngest son.  _Consider it an act of charity,_ he told himself.

“Fine then. I will send it to you through the post.”  Jaggers replied shortly. 

“Excellent! Now, I hope to see you tomorrow-“

“I need to go now, Michael. I will be late.” Jaggers cut Michael off.  He half-heartedly waved goodbye and took off as quickly as possible. 

 

 

Jaggers was in a terrible mood now. Not so much that he had to part with money but that he once again allowed Michael to have his way.  So what if he was losing parishioners? That was not his problem! Michael should strongly reevaluate what he was doing.  He-

Jaggers felt a small hand tug on his coat tail.  He turned around and saw a small girl completely filthy and bedraggled.  She looked up at him balefully and wordlessly held out her hand.  His heart softened at the sight of the child. When was the last time she ate?  Realistically, he knew she would be turned away at any establishment for her dirty appearance if he only gave her money to buy herself food.  Then, he got an idea.

“Come with me.”

Jaggers walked the little girl all the way back to his house.  Mrs. Francis looked shocked to see her employer and a beggar-child at the door.

“What on earth-“

“You have not discarded this morning’s breakfast, have you, Mrs. Francis?”

“No…but I was about to.”

Jaggers nodded his head towards the child. “As you can see, the little Miss could use a good meal. Among other things but breakfast is a start.”

Mrs. Francis ushered the girl in. “I must go, I am already late.”  Before his housekeeper could say another word, Jaggers was already past his gate.

 

Jaggers was indeed late for work. Tulkinghorn reminded him of this fact and though he spoke with a kindly tone about the importance of timeliness, Jaggers could see in his partner’s eyes that he was entirely displeased. 

However, when Jaggers sat down for work, he found he was in a much lighter mood than he was before. 

 

* * *

 

 On Saturdays, Jaggers only worked until noon. He stayed till one due to his tardiness in the morning but was pleased to at last be done with this week.  Since he did not have much breakfast, he was rather hungry and did not want to wait for Mrs. Francis to prepare something for him.  The answer to his dietary dilemma was resolved as he walked past the Three Cripples. 

Admittedly, the pub was full of fascinating characters. His parents would faint dead away if they knew he frequented an establishment like this one.  Most of the men and women did not possess the genteel or sophistication of his family’s social circle.  However, Jaggers was always interested in observing what people did there, listening to their discussions, and chiefly help himself to Mrs. Cratchit’s famous pies.  He remembered how Inspector Bucket was nearly always in possession of one and his curiosity got the better of him in trying one.

As it turned out, Inspector Bucket was absolutely right and the pies were delicious. 

The pub was filled with all its usual suspects today. However, he would only stop for his pies today rather than sit and read the newspaper.  

“Good afternoon, Mr. Jaggers!” Mrs. Cratchit called to him over the din of raucous laughter and table-thumping. 

“Afternoon, Mrs. Cratchit. I trust you and your family are well?” He replied pleasantly. 

Mrs. Cratchit was a fine woman. Had her life circumstances been different, he could easily see her being a close friend of his mother’s charity circle. Though she and her family struggled to make ends meet, he once saw her giving pies away at no cost to street children running about.  Her husband, Bob Cratchit, was a decent and honorable fellow.  It was rare for Jaggers to admire many people but the Cratchits were certainly among them. 

Mrs. Cratchit already had a meat pie ready for him but Jaggers thought for a moment. “if I could trouble you for three more, I would be much obliged to you.”

“Of course! Have you any friends coming to entertain?”

Jaggers gave out a short bark of laughter. “Heavens no! If anything, I feel as though I have been with people all week. I am ready for my reprieve.”

Mrs. Cratchit shook her head, smiling. “You cannot fool me, Mr. Jaggers. You pretend to not like people but you certainly are their champion.”  

Last year, Jaggers settled a wage dispute between Mr. Cratchit and Mr. Scrooge.  It turned out, Mr. Scrooge was unfairly docking Bob Cratchit of his pay for non-existent offenses. Had Mrs. Cratchit not mentioned it to him in passing, the Cratchit family would likely be out on the street due to the meager amount Mr. Scrooge was paying his employee.   Scrooge hated Jaggers for his “meddling” but that was quite alright with him.  The feeling was entirely mutual.

Jaggers pretended to look affronted at Mrs. Cratchit’s statement. “Madame! I won’t have you spreading such lies about my person!”

Mrs. Cratchit chuckled.  When she first met the solicitor, he barely said more than five words at a time to her or anyone in the pub. She continually would ask him of his day, say something kind to him, and greet him with a smile. With time, the austere and serious man began to open up more.  It became abundantly clear that despite his gruffness and silence, he had a good heart.  He just needed to be given a chance to prove his goodness on his own terms. Though he would deny it, she knew Mr. Jaggers was responsible for recovering her husband’s withheld wages. 

“Your secret is safe with me, Sir.  The pies are on the house.”

Jaggers made a sound of disapproval and paid twice the amount for the pies.  Mrs. Cratchit had long since learned not to argue with him over his payment methods.  One time she refused him and the money came through the post instead. If Mr. Jaggers was determined to do something, he would stop at nothing to see it through.

 

 

Upon his arrival home, Jaggers left two of the pies for Mr. and Mrs. Francis.  He felt mildly guilty she prepared such a big breakfast for him and he did not eat it (though it went to a much worthier recipient in the end).  With their old age, he knew they were quick to tire and he did not wish for their work to go in vain.   Jaggers took his own pie up to his bedroom and began to sort through his mail.

He stared with dread at one letter. It was from James.  Jaggers pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.  It was enough for him to have dealt with one Jaggers son but now the other. 

He instantly chided himself for thinking negatively of his brothers.  They were his family and ultimately, the only ones he would have after his parents would leave the earth.  Yet…there were some things he could not forget.

_Edward usually enjoyed school, rather he enjoyed his lessons. Everything else about Eton made him sick.  Father said that his time in the school would make him stronger and teach him more than just Classics. Edward was not sure what that meant since he had to read on mathematics and science on his own.  From the very first day, Edward wanted to hide in his dormitory…preferably under the bed.  His awkward appearance and studiousness made him a prime target for ridicule._

_Every ten minutes in his Latin class, he felt wads of paper hitting him in the back of his head. If he turned to look, no one would take credit for throwing paper at him.   He also felt the sharp jabs of pens into his back and waist. The boy he sat beside, David Brumly, was much bigger than him and could possibly snap him in half. He suffered in silence every day in his classes.  His teacher did nothing but droned on about Latin roots._

_Edward wrote to his mother, begging for advice or more appropriately if she could enroll him in a different school.  Hire a private tutor, he wrote as he hastily wiped his eyes to keep the tears from falling._

_Mother wrote back, expressing her sorrow at his unhappiness but could do little to help as it was his father’s wishes for him to stay in Eton. She advised him to stay close to James since his older brother was entrusted with the task of looking after him.  Typically, Edward hid away in the library when they were not in classes but perhaps Mother was right. Sticking close to James would be wise. His older brother was popular and commanded respect wherever he went. Surely no one was throwing paper at him or poking him with their pens!_

_One afternoon, Edward trailed after James and his friends.  At first, James had told him to go away but one of his friends, Albert White, whispered something in his ear. James listened and laughed aloud. James then allowed for Edward to spend the afternoon with them.  There was a small creek in the woods where they could cool themselves. It had been an unbearably hot day and all their school attire did not help.  The boys led Edward into the woods and then told him to run up ahead and look for a spot for them to rest.  Preferably near the creek. Edward was glad to be of service and eagerly scampered ahead._

_Only…he never found a creek.  He had been walking for hours and could find nothing.  When he turned back, Edward was not sure what direction to go in. The woods all looked the same and it had become terribly dense with trees._

_He screamed for help and no one came. No one could hear him and he was completely alone and lost. The afternoon soon gave way to evening and then nightfall.  Edward sat at the base of a tree, completely petrified. What if a bear or wolf found him? He could be killed and no one would know he was gone! It didn’t help that he had no food and nothing to build a shelter with. His clothes were insubstantial to warm him against the bitter wind and cold._

_He was going to die here, he thought sadly. Edward would never see his mother and father again._

_This was all James’s fault, he thought angrily. How could his brother lead him here and then not send someone to accompany him in these strange woods? God knew where he and his friends were. Were they looking for him? Somehow, he doubted that. He now believed James did this to him on purpose. What had he done to be so disliked by his classmates and his own brother? Edward didn’t do anything and now he had been abandoned in the woods!_

_At last, he heard the shouts of men calling his name.   Edward followed the sound, nearly falling over the fallen branches as he ran to the sources of the calls.  Some of the schoolmasters muttered about how irresponsible Edward was to wander off into the woods alone.  Only the librarian, Mr. Andrews, listened when Edward explained what happened.  He demanded James and the others be held responsible for bullying the younger pupil._

_However, James only reasoned it as teaching his younger brother character and survival skills. It was a harmless prank and they were going to come for him._

_Edward never felt such rage towards James. “You left me! You tricked me and now you lied!” he screamed at him later. James only scoffed, “Don’t be such a ninny, Edward. You had nothing to fear. I wouldn’t have done it if I thought you were truly going to be in danger.”_

_“I could have died! I had no food or shelter! How could you-“_

_“Be a man, Edward. Learn to defend yourself.” James dismissed him._

_The incident would go on to be forgotten but Edward never forgot the hurt he felt over his own brother bullying him and showing him how little he mattered.  The popular thing was to torment the smaller and weaker of boys in the school. Family and kinship were not enough to surpass being popular._

Jaggers ran a hand through his hair, frustrated.  What was going on with him to recall his least favorite memories? With resolve, he grabbed his letter opener and opened his letter from James.

 _Of course,_ he thought. It was a request for money. As always. The letters were short and to the point. He owed money to some unsavory character and he had no one else he could ask for help. _Only reliable and dutiful Edward_ , Jaggers thought bitterly.  Jaggers had half a mind to write a strongly worded letter telling James to “learn to defend himself.”  Yet…James was blood. Though it would be so easy to abandon his older brother, Jaggers could never act like his older brother once had.  _You are the better man, old fellow.  You are not James. You will never be him if you send him the money._  

Jaggers quickly wrote a letter and opened a small drawer and wrote a cheque for him. _Fifteen shillings should tide him over_ , he thought.  Though he did not tell James to “be a man” or “learn to defend himself”, he did throw in a warning that James should take the time to find suitable employment.  Then again, he wrote that in nearly all his letters but James either ignored it or wrote a snide comment about how not everyone could be as perfect as the middle Jaggers.  He would, however, be quick to write an apology if he did not receive money from his younger brother. 

Jaggers sealed up the letter and rang for Mr. Francis to deliver the letter to the post office first thing on Monday morning.   

All previous good humor Jaggers had evaporated after he sent James money and especially after recalling what happened to him in the woods.   Was that all his brothers saw him as?  Perhaps his parents were wise to cut off James and Father had put his foot down with Michael saying he already tithed his income and there was no more discussion of extra money.

  He could do the same but did his parents do this because they knew that Jaggers didn’t have the heart to turn his brothers down?  Perhaps it was easier for them to say no since they knew their second son would carry on where they left off.  

At least his parents showed concern for him and his well-being. What did either James or Michael do for him other than treating him like a damn bank?    Jaggers’s breathing began to quicken and his heart beat faster with anger.  _Calm down, this is normal. They always ask. It is nothing new. Too late for you to display anger now._ His self-talk did nothing to assuage his rapidly growing anger.   With a snarl, he grabbed a book on his desk and threw it hard against his wall. Damn them both, he cursed to himself.

Mrs. Francis came bounding up the stairs at the sound of the thud. “Mr. Jaggers! What was-“

“Nothing! I wish to be left alone!” He snapped.

Mrs. Francis was shocked at her employer’s tone. He was an extremely mild man and never showed his displeasure. For him to use this tone meant something truly terrible happened.

“Yes, Sir. Only…” she trailed off.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

“You have another letter. You must have forgotten it downstairs.” Hurriedly, she handed him the letter and quickly exited before she was the recipient of Jaggers’s wrath.

Jaggers flipped the letter over and…oh! He sat back down in his chair, staring at the letter with surprise.  He had not expected a response from Miss Havisham but she…she wrote back!  He did not bother with a letter opener and eagerly ripped the envelope open.

The paper was of fine quality and likely expensive.  Miss Havisham, unlike most ladies, did not have a pretty or neat hand but her writing was still legible.  He remembered that Miss Havisham had a habit of writing swiftly. Perhaps the first part of her sentences would be neat and then the rest would slant or were not quite in a proper line.  

_“Dear, E,_

_I must confess I was surprised to see a letter addressed to me after months of not receiving a personal letter.  Most of my friends, relatives, and acquaintances would not hesitate to divulge their identity so I know it cannot be them.  It is apparent we know one another but I am afraid your true name escapes me. I see you are purposely withholding your identity from me but I do wish to know it._

_In regards to your letter, I have answered your riddles. Two of them served as a delightful challenge but the last was much too simple. However, I must not be so demanding lest you find me ungrateful and do not offer any more diversions._

_The answers to your riddles are as follows:_

_1) Book_

_2) Wine_

_3) Only the narrator of the riddle is going to St. Ives._

_Since you have offered me three puzzles, I am inclined to reciprocate.   I warrant you could solve these quite easily but should you not, you must tell me who you are. It is only fair._

_My riddles are :_

_1) Forward I am heavy, but backward I am not. What am I?_

_2) If you were in a dark room with a candle, a woodstove, and a gas lamp, what do you light first?_

_3) If two’s a company and three’s a crowd, what are four and five?_

_Yours,_

_Amelia Havisham"_

For all the rage and bitterness he felt minutes earlier, he felt his heart fill with relief. Miss Havisham must not be so unwell if she was able to write back to him and clearly responded well to his letter.  However, he would sadly have to deny her request of admitting who he was.  It would all be over much too soon if he did that.  He didn’t know why but telling her he was the author of these letters might anger her. She did, after all, make it abundantly clear she was displeased with him when he last saw her.  _No,_ he told himself.  _Give her some more time_.

 

Jaggers retrieved a sheet of paper and his best pen.

 

_“Dear Miss Havisham, “_

 

* * *

 


	4. Chapter 4

_“Dear Miss Havisham,_

_I am afraid I will have to disappoint you. You may inquire all you wish but I have solved your riddles.  The answers are as follows_

_1) Ton_

_2)Matchstick_

_3)Nine_

_You see, Miss Havisham, I was once quite fond of riddles and puzzles. I say once since my time is spent in other pursuits.  However, a good riddle still charms me from time to time. I am pleased to say yours did and I can assure you, I am not easily susceptible to charm._

_I can only gather from your responses coming from Satis House you still reside there. If I may ask (but only with the kindest of intentions), are you well? Forgive me for the intrusion but I mean no harm. I merely inquire since most of the windows in the house are covered with wooden boards. I was inclined to believe you had vacated the property but I still see servants coming in and out of the house.  I suppose the boards on your windows means you do not wish to receive visitors._

_If I am being completely frank, you have crossed my mind more than once since I first wrote to you.  I often wonder if you are well and left Satis House for a newer and happier home. More importantly, I wonder if there is anything I can do to help you._

_Please know that I am your ally in all matters. Should you desire anything at all, I will hasten to retrieve it for you._  
  
_Before I close this letter, I have three questions for you. I hope you enjoy them_.

_1) I know a word of letters three. Add two and fewer there will be. What word am I?_

_2) If you have one, you will want to share it. Once you share it, it is no longer yours. What am I?_

_3) If an egg came floating down the Thames, where did it come from?_

_As I have said before, please consider me your friend. I am at your service now and in the future._

_Yours,_  
  
E

 

Amelia read the letter again in her study for the third time.  As kindly as the letter seemed, she felt oddly uncomfortable by it.  Certain sentences stood out to her and she felt unsure if she should answer at all. It seemed as though the person knew all about her but did she even know the author of these letters? This put her at a disadvantage and she was at this stranger’s mercy. Or…

Had she been so long without a real human connection that she forgot what well-meaning concern was?  Of course, her two maids who remained often asked her how she fared but they were her employees.  She didn’t really think they wanted to know and truthfully, they observed her enough to know the answer. 

She reread the first part of the letter again and carefully picked apart the sentences.  At least the person did not say he or she wanted to come and visit her.  There were reassurances of no harm or ill-intentions, but she could never be sure.  In her experience, she found many people often said one thing and meant another. 

 _No!_ she told herself firmly. You will not think about him or Arthur! You will not think of those who deceived you and destroyed your life.  

For some reason, Amelia had been thinking a great deal about Arthur. She thought he was writing to her with false information to keep her from finding him but something about these letters told her that it could not be him. 

 

_“Papa, why is the baby crying so much? He never stops!” Amelia pouted. Reginald wanted to laugh aloud but his daughter would become entirely angry with him. She was sitting on the floor with her hands clasped firmly over her ears._

_“Darling, you must be kind to your little brother. He does not have the words to tell us what troubles him.”_

_“But the nanny has tried everything! He still won’t stop!” Amelia protested. A dark frown crossed her face. “I do not like him at all!”_

_“Amelia! That is not a kind thing to say about him! He will need your help in this world. You are his older sister and you must guide him through life.  I want you to remember this, my girl. You are bigger than him, are you not?”_

_Amelia looked at her father oddly. Well, of course, she was!  He went on. “You know how to talk, walk, and do many things by yourself, can’t you?”_

_Again, Amelia was wondering why her father was asking her such silly questions. Usually, when he asked her questions that were funny, she laughed. Her father did not wait for an answer. “Since you are older, you will always know a little more than him. You will always experience things first. He will learn from you. You must be patient with him. Remember, Mellie, because you are bigger than he is, you will be the stronger one. Protect him as best as you can.”_

 

Only…her father did not warn her that the small and the meek could inflict pain too. Had David not slain Goliath, though he was much smaller and weaker compared to the fearsome giant? Sometimes, the pain would be immobilizing…even if they both fell.  

A part of her wondered about Arthur’s whereabouts. She wanted to ask him why. Didn’t he know that what was hers was his too, in a way? Yes, she would be responsible for the fortune and brewery, but Arthur would have been at the forefront of everything! There was no decision she would have made without him! 

Amelia felt her eyes burn and began furiously wiping at them.  She did not want to cry but she felt angry and betrayed. Another part of her felt afraid for Arthur. Where was he? She knew he had taken to drink and had few dangerous brushes with death. What if…what if he was dead? 

Now she couldn’t stop herself. The tears came flowing regardless of her attempts to wipe eyes.  She failed her father. She promised she would take good care of Arthur, protect him from all harm and it was likely he could be horribly ill, injured, or dead.  He must have been all alone! Oh, and he tried to make amends! Amelia felt so angry and betrayed by everyone in that room that she could not see past her hurt. She sent him away to his wretched fate!

Her father would be ashamed and horrified she selfishly sent him away.  

_Papa, I am sorry! I failed you in my promise! What should I have done? He was so wicked…he brought the monster into my life. Arthur brought the devil who led me down to a path of pain and despair. All because of money! The money I would have willingly shared with him!_

Amelia took a deep, shuddering sob as she tried to clear her dragging thoughts.  To distract herself, she read the letter once more.  She ignored the bulk of the letter and focused on the riddles but her mind was too scattered and weighed down with guilt and unhappiness.  If anything, the letter brought out all of these memories she did not want!

With a harsh moan, she crumbled the letter and threw it on the floor.  Enough! She didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to.  Amelia promptly arose and marched out of the study. Damn whoever wrote to her and made her feel this way! 

 

* * *

 

 

Nine days went by and Amelia spent most of the time in her bed.  Katie and Mrs. Dawkins were at a loss for what to do. Their mistress had made a good change in the last few weeks! She had come downstairs and started reading in the study! Mrs. Dawkins even said that Amelia even ate half of her eggs one morning.  They weren’t sure what caused the problem since Miss Havisham slept most of the time.  Mrs. Dawkins insisted they call for someone from an asylum to take Miss Havisham away.  Katie, on the other hand, felt torn. Yes, it was clear the mistress was unwell but she heard the stories about what happened to people who went to those places. Miss Havisham did not deserve that fate!  She told the older woman they should only do something if the lady began to harm her or one of them.   So far, all she did was sleep and maybe drink a cup of tea or water. 

Katie was that she was to start keeping the study cleaned frequently. This time when she went in the study, she found a balled up piece of paper.  Out of curiosity, she smoothed it out and began to read it.  It puzzled her that it was balled up like refuse.  What was the matter with the letter to make her employer so upset? 

 Katie’s eyes fell upon the letter again and she saw the three questions.  

_1) I know a word of letters three. Add two and fewer there will be. What word am I?_

_2) If you have one, you will want to share it. Once you share it, it is no longer yours. What am I?_

_3) If an egg came floating down the Thames, where did it come from?_

These questions were odd to Katie but she found herself thinking quite hard about them.   Did these questions annoy Miss Havisham? They did seem rather difficult and enough to cause a frustration.   Yet, she did want to know the answers though.  For some reason, she chose not to throw the letter away. Carefully, she smoothed it out more and tucked it under some other papers. Maybe Miss Havisham would want to try again later.

 

  
  
“Have you heard a question like this before?  I know a word of letters three. Add two and fewer there will be. What word am I?” Katie asked Mrs. Dawkins as they were cleaning pots. Not that they were cooking much for anyone but they still wanted to keep them in good shape should they ever be used in the future. 

The older woman looked taken aback, “Good heavens, child! What on earth did you ask?”

Katie repeated her question and Mrs. Dawkins only looked more astounded. “Where did you hear such a queer thing?”

Katie opened her mouth to reply but then thought she would get in trouble for admitting to reading Miss Havisham’s letter.  “Oh, I read it in a book once.”

Mrs. Dawkins eyes narrowed.”I think it is high time you stop reading that book if it causes you to ask such outlandish question!”

“Well, what about this question.  If you have one, you will want to share it. Once you share it, it is no longer yours. What am-“

“The answer is secret, Katie.” Amelia’s voice interrupted.  Both Mrs. Dawkins and Katie immediately whipped around.  Miss Havisham stood in the doorway, looking wan and exhausted.  It unsettled Katie to see her mistress regress back into this tired self…and that horrid wedding dress continued to hang off of her body.  The lace was torn and the former white gown began turning grey-ish yellow. 

“Miss! I-you’re awake!”  Katie exclaimed.

“So it appears.  I rang but I warrant neither of you could hear. No matter.  A cup of tea, please. Bring it up to my room.”

With that, Amelia turned around and floated up away. It was remarkable how spectral Miss Havisham became. A living ghost, Katie thought.

Mrs. Dawkins shuddered. “You take it up to her.  The woman gives me the shivers.”   
  
Katie shook her head fervently, “No, I can-“

“You can and you will! Take it up to her!” Mrs. Dawkins commanded.  Unfortunately, Mrs. Dawkins was the more senior maid and Katie had to comply. 

The younger maid’s heart sank as she carried up the tea to Miss Havisham. Her mistress would surely know she read the letter! She would be sacked immediately! There was no telling what Miss Havisham would do.

Katie timidly knocked on the door and heard her order to come in.   Katie tiptoed in and weakly smiled at Miss Havisham.   
  
“It’s good to see you up and about, Ma’am.” Katie tried to say as cheerily as possible.

Amelia gave a half shrug. She was back in her bed again, but she appeared to be cold.  Amelia was always cold. The wedding dress was not meant for the cool weather and the house was becoming increasingly drafty.  She sat up in the bed and the covers draped over her shoulders.  If Katie were a cruel girl, she would have thought her employer looked like a witch. Instead, she felt sympathy and her mistress didn’t look too dissimilar from the street children who ran not two miles from the house.  
  
“Where did you hear the riddle, Katie?” Amelia asked, not looking at her.

“What riddle, Ma’am?”

“The one I heard you telling Mrs. Dawkins. Did you read it in my letter?”  Katie hesitated. Miss Havisham did not sound angry. She asked the question as if she were asking if she needed an umbrella for the day.”

Katie wanted to lie but despite her poorliness, Miss Havisham was still very smart.  She would likely find her out and punish her further for lying.

“I didn’t mean to, Miss! I just found the paper when I was cleaning-“

“I am not angry, Katie. I warrant you must have been curious when you found it.” Amelia replied mildly. 

“Do you know who sent it?” Katie asked, feeling much more relieved she was not being screamed at.

Amelia shook her head. “ I thought it was Arthur at first…it does not seem like him, though.  The letter only made…” She trailed off, not wanting to remember again. Her head was aching again.

“You remembered him and you became sad?” Katie asked kindly.

Amelia looked up at her sharply but did not scold the maid. “I suppose.” 

Katie said no more about it and began to fluff the covers and pillows near her mistress.  Amelia quietly sipped her tea, mulling over the letter.

“I don’t suppose you threw the letter away, did you?”

“Ah…no, Ma’am. I thought you would want it later.”

Amelia regarded her maid carefully.  She never thought about it but perhaps Katie was much wiser than she gave her credit for.  Maybe…maybe Katie would enjoy solving the riddles too…

“If you could bring up the letter, I would be obliged,” Amelia said softly.

Katie curtsied and agreed to fetch it.  When she returned, Amelia motioned to her to bring it over.  She rubbed her eyes and read the first riddle aloud.

“I know a word of letters three. Add two and fewer there will be. What word am I?” 

Katie looked up, confused. “Sorry, Ma’am?”

Amelia put the letter down. “What do you think?”

“Who, me, Miss?” 

“Who else is here, Katie?”

Katie flushed at her silly response. “Oh! I am sorry…it just surprised me you would ask, Ma’am.”

“Why?”

Katie bit her lip and tried shrugging. Amelia prompted her to talk. “It’s just that no one ever asks servants what they think.”

Amelia frowned at that but Katie was likely right. To be truthful, she doubted she would have asked Katie a riddle eight months ago.  Yet, she was bored and there was nothing else to do…Katie seemed decent enough.

“I am asking now. What do you think?” Amelia reiterated.

“May I read the paper, Ma’am?”

She leaned down to reread the riddle. Amelia watched Katie’s eyes dart back and forth, her brow furrowing as she went into deep thought.  Katie was silent for a moment.  Her expression changed and looked hesitant. She nervously glanced at Amelia.

“Do you know the answer. Miss?”

Amelia nodded. “Have you solved it?”

Katie hesitated again before speaking. “Is it the word ‘few’, Ma’am?”

Amelia’s lips curled upward into a pleased smile. “Right you are, Katie. Well done.”

Katie beamed delightedly but ducked her head. “Thank you, Miss. Do you want anything-“

“Come, let’s solve the third puzzle,” Amelia interjected. The blankets slipped from her shoulders but she made no attempt to gather them back up. Amelia felt excited someone took interest in something she enjoyed. 

When she was young, she thoroughly enjoyed solving puzzle and riddles with her father rather than doing it alone. Amelia patted the space on the bed for Katie to sit.   Katie looked shocked at first but Amelia impatiently patted the bed again.   Awkwardly, Katie climbed atop the bed and sat beside Miss Havisham. She held her breath a little since it had been some time since her mistress last bathed but wisely kept her mouth shut. 

The two women spent quite a bit of time on the third riddle.  Katie kept thinking her response was silly and did not propose it until Amelia threw her hands up in defeat.

“What a strange riddle! It is impossible to solve!” Amelia huffed.  Still, she was smiling in amusement at the challenging puzzle.  “Should we look in the riddle book in the study?”

“Oh, but that is cheating, Miss!” Katie laughingly protested.

“Not cheating! It is using what resources are at my disposal!” Amelia maintained but chuckled a bit.  “You never gave any guess. Look again and read it.”

“it’s silly, Miss. I do not wish to say.”

“Go on! It is not as though I have given better guesses.

Katie giggled at herself, embarrassed. “No…you will think I’m stupid.”

Amelia made a tsk sound and frowned at her maid. “You are anything but stupid. Come on, what is your guess?”

“A chicken, Ma’am.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“A chicken. The question asked where the egg came from and eggs come from chickens.” Katie mumbled.

Amelia began to smile but the smile soon gave way into a giggle. The giggle gave way into a chuckle and then a full-blown laugh.  

Katie felt her ears burn and tried to smile, “I told you it was stupid.” In reality, she felt humiliated.

“No, Katie! It’s not stupid at all! It’s a brilliant answer and quite frankly, it is the most obvious one.  We spent far too much time trying to find such a simple answer!” Amelia laughed. “How long were you thinking that answer?”

Now, it was the maid’s turn to laugh. “After you read it, Ma’am.”

Both women burst into peals of laughter.  There was nothing really funny about this but perhaps Amelia needed to laugh after months and weeks of weeping.   Goodness, when was the last time she had been so heartily amused by her own silliness?  Of all people, her seventeen-year-old maid with little education solved it in a heartbeat!  Yes, she truly underestimated her employee.  

“Thank you, Katie. For helping me solve the puzzles and for my tea. “Amelia finally answered after she was able to stop laughing.

“Your welcome, Miss,” Katie replied genuinely.  For the last two years, she had been secretly intimidated by the sophisticated and brilliant woman she worked for but they laughed just now as though they were the best of friends! 

Amelia drew herself up. “I think I will go to the study. Is it cold there?”

Katie nodded, “It is. It is warmer in the drawing room, Ma’am. I can make a nice warm fire for you.”

 

This made Amelia balk a little. She didn’t really go in that room.  However, she felt too embarrassed and silly to tell Katie that.   However, Katie sensed the nervousness and smiled kindly.

“Would you like me to sit with you while you are there? I can stay for as long as you want?”

Amelia was still for a few minutes, clearly mulling over her options.  The drawing room had been such a central part of her life for years. It was the room where much activity had happened. So many memories in that grand room…

 

_“Amelia,” Arthur stated quietly. He stood at the entrance of the drawing room, looking grave. He had been upstairs by Father’s bedside for several hours. Amelia wanted to be at his side too but the doctor wanted to speak to Arthur privately about Father’s condition.  The doctor thought Amelia had a delicate constituent and did not think it would be wise to allow her to see her father ill and in pain.  She had been pacing rapidly before the fireplace._

_“What is it? What did Dr. Martin say?” Amelia rushed._

_Arthur took a deep breath. “It is time…we need to summon Mr. Jaggers. Dr. Martin said it may be best to have Father get his affairs in order before…before it gets worse.”_

_Amelia stifled a gasp and sob.  She sank to the ground, barely attempting to stop the sobs.  Arthur crossed the room and put his arms around her. He did not care that he was kneeling and likely ruining the knees of his trousers._

_“We have each other, Mellie. No matter what, we have each other. It’s what Father said upstairs.”_

_Amelia stopped her tears and smiled tearfully at her brother. “Thank you, Artie.”_

_Arthur smiled and proffered a handkerchief to Amelia. “Do you remember when my mother took ill? I wept so much that one of the Pocket cousins laughed at me for crying as though I were a girl.”_

_She, in spite of herself, began to smile. “Yes…”_

_“He laughed at me so much that he didn’t see you behind him. You pushed him so hard that he fell and broke his front teeth.”_

_Amelia knew it was wrong of her to laugh at that but she began to giggle uncontrollably. “Papa had to pretend to be angry about that. He took me into my room and told me it was not ladylike to push anyone but he praised me for coming to your defense.”_

_Arthur started laughing too. “When he came down to see me again, Father was laughing so hard that he wept! His beard and mustache were wet! He said you had more fire than any boy he knew.”_

_They both laughed as they remembered the image of their father in near hysterics.  It was the last time Amelia ever saw her brother laugh again. It was the last time they ever spoke to one another as true friends._

So much laughter in that room…and then tears.  She really felt unsure if she should go into the room but…not so long ago she sat in her father’s study and nothing bad happened. It did not haunt her to be in her father’s study.  Surely it would not haunt her to go into the drawing room where it was warm.   Finally, after several moments of silent, she announced it would be agreeable for her to go into the drawing room and yes, a fire would be lovely.   

“Before you go down, Miss, would you like for me to draw you a warm bath? It might warm your bones and I will ask Mrs. Dawkins to make you some fresh, hot soup?”

Amelia nodded meekly and allowed Katie to lead her away to be bathed.  During the time Amelia was being washed, Katie asked her about the mysterious letter writer.

“Why do you suppose the person will not tell you who they are?” Katie inquired as she began pouring warm water down Amelia’s hair.

“I do not know. Perhaps the person will not say because he or she thinks I will not speak to them anymore once I learn who they are.”

“Would you stop, though, Ma’am?”

Amelia shrugged. “I think it depends on who it is. I was hurt by a great many people on the wedding day.”

Katie nodded. “I think it might be Lady Dedlock, Ma’am. She knows you quite well but perhaps she does not wish to upset you?”

Amelia paused at that, “Who….who is Lady Dedlock?”

“Oh! It was Miss Honoria, Ma’am. She married about five or six months ago.”

Amelia was stunned upon hearing that.  The young and beautiful Honoria Barbary married an elderly fellow like Sir Leicester?  What on earth for? While Sir Leicester was a kind and honorable man, he was rather dull. Honoria was full of life and adventure.  Was it possible for him to be able to keep up with someone as sharp and vivacious as her friend?

“I thought…for some reason I thought someone like the elder Miss Barbary would be better suited for Sir Leicester.” Amelia mused.  
  
“Yes, Miss. I remember Miss Francis coming to the house on a few occasions but she seemed very quiet.”

Amelia thought for a moment that perhaps Katie was right but then reminded her the person was using the initial, “E”. It seemed like a strange letter for Honoria to choose since her first name began with H and her middle name was Sarah.

Katie began to speak slowly, “You know, Miss…I could find out for you. I can go to 41 Arch Road and see who lives there.”

The thought had crossed Amelia’s head many times but for some reason, she sort of liked the anonymity of not knowing who the person was. Surely, if she found out and told the person, they would want to come visit or…

_Maybe they will leave you alone too. They will be afraid and stop everything._

 

Even if it was someone she knew and was unhappy with…the letters meant something to her. The riddles were a kind and entertaining distraction from the monotonous gray that enveloped her life.  If she was being completely honest…she would never have seen what an interesting and intelligent girl her maid was.  Amelia had been friendless for so long and was convinced her maids only cared about their wages. Katie had been by her side for hours and not once looked at the door to leave. 

She dressed in the wedding gown again. A part of her wanted to put on something else, the dress made her feel dirty after she had just been bathed but she had to wear it. She had to wear it for the rest of her life! She had been a fool, easily deceived and it was no excuse. Her foolishness ruined everything. Her late father would have been horrified at his daughter’s stupidity. _Papa would have never forgiven this kind of idiocy. He did not suffer fools gladly and you were the ultimate fool._

Amelia slowly made her way down the stairs and took a deep breath. Her hand hovered over the door handle.  Katie’s smaller hand went over hers. “We can go in together, Ma’am. I will be there until you wish to do something else.”

Amelia smiled at the younger girl. “Thank you, Katie. Before I go in, do you mind terribly if you could fetch me some paper and a pen?”

 

* * *

 

Amelia sat on the floor, several feet away from the fire but she could feel the warmth from the fireplace.  Katie wrapped a thick, woolen shawl across her shoulders. Katie offered to plait Amelia’s hair while Amelia answered her letter. 

Amelia put the paper atop of a long and thick book and began to write.  When she finished, Katie couldn’t help but ask,

“What did you write, Miss?”

Amelia began to read the letter out loud.

_“Dear E,_

_I apologize for the tardiness of my letter. I had taken to my bed for some time and felt well enough to respond.  I seem to take to my bed quite a lot since I find little peace in much else.  However, I find peace today sitting in my drawing room after many months and having discovered a friend in my maid.  She and I enjoyed solving your riddles together.  You cannot accuse me of cheating since it is not an uncommon thing to consult with someone when you are given a hard riddle to solve. Katie and I have the following answers to your riddles._

_1) Few_

_2) A secret_

_3) A hen_

_I must give praise where it is due and acknowledge that Katie solved the last one by herself._

_Though it is kind of you to offer your assistance at this time, I have no need of it.  I am resigned to the life I lead now and I find that little will improve it.  However, I would be wrong to say that your riddles and letters do give me some small pleasure. I liken it to eating a piece of chocolate after a trying day. I wonder, do you, perhaps like chocolate? I have not had any for months but I’ve not forgotten the taste._  
  
_You need not worry, I shan’t try to deduce who you are but I am curious to know more about you.   Since I asked you about your preference for chocolate, what other foods do you enjoy?_

_I hope you pardon my strange nature and questioning. You should, after all, expect it since you chose to write to a madwoman._

_Per our custom, I offer you three questions._

_1) I am as light as a feather but even the strongest of men cannot hold me for more than five minutes. What am I?_

_2) If you look at the words “New Door” can you rearrange them to one word?_

_3) There are four sons who were all born into the world together. The first runs and never tires. The second eats but is never satisfied. The third drinks but is never quenched. The fourth sings a song that is never good._

_Fear not, I will not demand your identity if you should not successfully answer any of the questions._

_Yours,_

_Amelia Havisham_

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Jaggers smiled as he read the letter for the third time.  He did not expect prompt responses but it did worry him a little when he noticed the length of time. Jaggers agonized for hours after the fifth day if he should send another letter, apologizing for the unintentional offense he may have caused.  He also wondered if Miss Havisham simply lost interest and ignored the letter completely.  Jaggers forced himself to move on but happy day, Mr. Francis handed him the letter upon his arrival home.  Eagerly, he took it up to his room and poured over the letter.   

He felt concern when he read that she had taken to bed for several days (Was she ill? Should he send a doctor?). He felt distressed when he read she felt joy in little else but sleep. His smile returned when he read that his letters and riddles provided her with some joy.  His smile grew wider when he read that she and her maid had become friendly and they worked together to solve the riddles.  It bothered him greatly to think of Miss Havisham all alone in that large house, surrounded by memories of that terrible morning.   As Jaggers read the line about her newfound friendship with her maid, he remembered the first time he met Miss Havisham.

_Six years ago, he had been nervously sitting in the receiving room of Satis House.  Jaggers had recently been told by Tulkinghorn to draw up some financial agreements between a Mr. Havisham and a Mr. Morton.  The two had been former partners but due to ill health of Mr. Morton, he was relinquishing the full property to Mr. Jaggers.  It was not common for Jaggers to go directly to the home of a client. Typically, clients came to him but his office was not of the best quality (he hoped Mr. Tulkinghorn would let him take the old office of his former partner next month) and he did not want someone as refined as Mr. Havisham to see his hovel of an office._

_Mr. Havisham graciously invited him to his residence, “Although you will have to excuse the state of my house.  We are hosting a birthday party for my daughter and the staff will likely have their hands full with the preparations.”_

_Jaggers tried to meet on a different date but Mr. Havisham insisted there was no problem in having him come by._

_“Ah, Mr. Jaggers! What a pleasure for you to come. Welcome to Satis House,” greeted Mr. Havisham jovially as he made his way to the seated lawyer. Jaggers rose quickly and firmly shook his hand. “How do you do, Sir?”_

_The two exchanged pleasantries before they went into Mr. Havisham’s study.  Jaggers came properly equipped with two potential drafts of the financial agreement and carefully explained the terms of the documents. He also advised Mr. Havisham to invest some money in renovating the brewery to ensure it meets potential safety codes._

_“We are moving at a face pace when it comes to legislation of land-owning and running a business. I can assure you I have it on good authority there will be increased inspection codes for establishments like this brewery.” Jaggers concluded as he pointed to one of the document drafts._

_“It may cost you more now but you will save yourself a headache and possible fines if you add these modern features sooner rather than later.”_

_Mr. Havisham nodded as he read through the document Jaggers pointed to.  He leaned back in his seat and regarded the young solicitor before him. “I am glad I trusted my judgment when it came to selecting you to handle my business affairs.”_

_Jaggers ducked his head modestly and tried to protest but Havisham continued. “Tulkinghorn told me I should look to a lawyer with more experience but the name Jaggers in the legal arena is not a small one. Tell me, is William Jaggers a relation of yours?”_

_“My father, Sir.”_

_Mr. Havisham nodded approvingly. “That is all well but I think you will discern yourself from him quite well but I am sure you bring him great pride.  I would prefer to work with young men like yourself. I find young minds look to the future.  Those are the minds that will lead our glorious country to greatness!”_

_Jaggers couldn’t stop the pleased smile growing on his face. “Mr. Havisham, you are far too kind! I only hope that you will be pleased with my services and-“_

_Havisham waved his hand. “You need not hope, young man. I think you have achieved your goal.” The older man stood up and extended his hand for Jaggers to shake. Jaggers excitedly shook it, pleased for once he was able to do good work without anyone saying he took after his father or Tulkinghorn taught him well. This was all his accomplishment._

_“Papa, you received a letter from-oh!”_

_Jaggers turned around and saw a young woman entering the study.  The woman was tall but shorter than him.  This must have been Mr. Havisham’s daughter.  She looked nothing like her father…she certainly favored the pretty woman in the photograph behind Mr. Havisham on the wall. The young woman appeared pleasant and amiable, just like her father.  He had seen women lovelier than she but that was before he saw her eyes.  Jaggers pretended to look at something on his coat for a moment so he would not be caught staring at her.  It would be highly unseemly if he was seen gawking at his client’s daughter...even if she had the most enchanting green eyes he had ever seen.   He barely heard Mr. Havisham introduce her._

_“How do you do, Mr. Jaggers?” Amelia asked pleasantly._

_He mentally shook himself. “Miss Havisham.”_

_Upon the Havisham’s insistence, he was invited to stay for dinner. Jaggers tried to excuse himself but when Amelia politely extended the invitation to him, he heard himself saying he appreciated her kind offer and if it was of no trouble, he would be much obliged._

_Throughout the evening, Jaggers quietly ate his food but quietly observed Miss Havisham from the corner of his eye.  The girl was never left alone. Countless young women and men surrounded her, all so eager and pleased to even be in her presence.  Jaggers could not say he could relate to this experience of being popular and well-liked among people of his own age.  It fascinated Jaggers to see how one person could attract so many friends.  At first, Jaggers thought it was because Miss Havisham was attractive but there had to be more to it.  Then it occurred to him._

_Miss Havisham was kind. There was not a single guest whom she did not speak with at length, she looked each guest in the eye, and made it seem each person was important. She laughed and smiled easily but none of it seemed contrived. The lady was genuinely happy to be around all of these people.   When he left the party, he thought how lucky Miss Havisham was to be so liked. Friendship was never something she would be without. Ordinarily, Jaggers would dismiss this as something most people did not deserve but he caught himself thinking the young lady deserved everything she could possibly want._

Jaggers rubbed his tired eyes and put the letter down.  Glancing at the clock, he readied himself for bed.   


 

Of course, once he settled into bed, he could not fall asleep readily.  He lay awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to think of boring cases and law text he had to learn. When he looked at the clock again, he groaned. It was close to midnight.  Well, if he was awake, he could go and actually answer the letter rather than read it for the fourth time.   
  
He lit the lamp on his desk and pulled out a piece of paper. He would have to ask Mr. Francis if he could kindly acquire more from Llewellyn’s tomorrow, preferably the thicker variety.  He rather liked the paper Miss Havisham used to write her responses on. 

His mouth turned upward a little when he reread the part about what he liked to eat. It seemed an odd question. An innocuous enough question but he found he would only answer these questions if he liked who asked the question. Nine out of ten times, he usually did not.  

The question did give him pause though. What did he enjoy eating? Most of the time, Jaggers worked through meals and or just had a cup of tea and a few bites of toast to sustain him but did he actually enjoy food was a question to ask.  He quickly scribbled down “Things I like to eat” on top of the paper and began writing down all the things he thought were pleasing to his palate.   By the time he was finished, he was surprised at the length of the list. 

When Jaggers finished his list, he found it interesting that most people did not ask about dislikes. The pragmatic side of him imagined it was unseemly to complain or disparage things other people liked. However, he thought it was important to know what displeased someone to avoid any blunders or embarrassment.  What if he sent Miss Havisham a piece of fruit she did not like? It would be a waste of money on his part and put her in the uncomfortable position of pretending to like something that would be thrown away in a few minutes.  

_Since when do you plan on sending her anything?! That is going a step too far, chap! Letters are one thing but gifts are another! Steady on and just stick to letters!_

Jaggers rolled his eyes at his own silly thoughts of buying Miss Havisham gifts. He kept his list besides another sheet and began to write his letter.

_Dear Miss Havisham,_

_I am glad to see you have recovered and were able to send a response. I am sorry to hear that you were unwell and were confined to your bed. It is good to know that you are well looked after by your friend and maid.  It is of no surprise you have been able to befriend her since making friends was a significant forte of yours.  I cannot say that I possess the same skill._  
  
Ordinarily, I would insist that you not consult with books or other persons but these riddles are meant for you to enjoy. I am hardly your schoolmaster nor you my pupil so it makes no difference to me how you wish to solve the puzzles. However, it may lead me to believe you are not as skilled at solving puzzles as I once heard you were. Of course, I say this entirely in jest and mean no offense.    
  
You asked me what foods I enjoy eating. Madame, I can only guess what spurred on this questioning but I shall indulge you.

_ The Foods I Enjoy _

_Meat pies from the Three Cripples Pub_

_Roasted meats_

_Anything sweet_

_English peas_

_Coffee_

_Tea_

_Toast with butter or marmalade_

_Eggs (preferably scrambled or fried)_

_Fish, particularly if the skin is crisp or if it is fried_

_Brandy or Claret_

_Apples_

_Pears_

_Strawberries_

_Potatoes_

_Now, while you did not ask me this it occurred to me it is important for one to know dislikes along with likes. You are free to decide what information is of interest to you or not._

_ The Foods I Do Not Care For _

_Rhubarb_

_Leeks_

_Onions_

_My housekeeper’s cabbage soup (on the account of the smell)_

_Stargazy Pie_

_Raspberries (the seeds annoy me)_

_Raisins_

_I expect a similar list from you. It is only fair, after all.   I must confess, upon reading your riddles, I have encountered these before in my youth_

_1) Breathe_

_2) One Word_

_3) Water, Fire, Earth, and_

_I fear my letter has become too long but I do not wish to leave out our custom of riddles._

_1) What English word has three consecutive double letters?_

_2)_ _What must you give before you can keep it?_

_3) The more of me you take, the more of me you will leave behind. What am I?_

_Again, I am pleased to see you have recovered. I wish you well, Miss Havisham._

_Yours,  
E_

 

Just as Jaggers was folding his letter to put in an envelope, Mrs. Francis told him he had a message from his mother.

“I believe it is an invitation to dine, Sir. The footman told me Mr. and Mrs. Jaggers are having a gathering tonight.”

Jaggers stared uncomfortably at his housekeeper.  He really did not wish to attend.  “Can you tell-

“The footman also said that Mrs. Jaggers hopes to see both her sons tonight.  Michael has confirmed his attendance.”

He ran a hand over his mouth to hide his murmuring of a curse word. Tricky bastard, he thought to himself. Jaggers knew if he didn’t come to the dinner party, Michael would gloat for months about how Mother felt most unhappy about Edward neglecting her wants. Michael would heavily drop hints that he was the better son of all of them.  Jaggers knew it was Michael being…well, Michael but he couldn’t stand the idea of allowing Michael to be praised for doing so little when he worked tirelessly to take care of everyone.

“Very well, Mrs. Francis. What time should I arrive?”

 

Jaggers put in extra effort to look his best tonight.  Though he had bathed yesterday, he requested Mr. Francis prepare another one for him and before his bath, he chose to go to the barber for his shave rather than have Mr. Francis do it.  Jaggers also strategically chose to wear the tailcoat Mother bought for him on his birthday.  He kept his cravat and waistcoat a conservative black with elegant detailing.  Jaggers had polished his boots earlier in the day. 

 It was a strange habit for him but the repetitive motion of polishing his boots calmed his mind.  Much like his desire for cleanliness, he felt he was able to clear his mind and mentally prepare for a difficult task.  These sort of dinner gatherings always put him on edge and he needed to prepare for asinine chatter, intrusive guests, and…just being unable to hear himself think.

Worst still, he had to prepare himself mentally for the barrage of older women dragging him by the arm to meet young daughters, nieces, cousins, sisters, or wards. The young ladies had no desire to meet him nor did he wish to meet them.   Yes, polishing his shoes as he thought of exit strategies was helpful. 

 

After he finished his dressing, Jaggers took one last look in the mirror. He frowned at his reflection. No matter how elegant and refined his clothing was, he was still ugly. Unfortunately, his mother’s features were better suited for a woman than on him.  Well, no use thinking about what he could not change. He pulled himself upright from his previous slouched posture and held his head high.  Jaggers would attend dinner as any good son would and he could retreat into the safety of his own home. 

 

* * *

 

 

“Darling! Don’t you look handsome in that tailcoat!” Henrietta praised as he entered the house.  They embraced and he kissed his mother on the cheek.

“You look beautiful, Mother.” For her age, Henrietta looked dignified and sophisticated. Her gown was steel gray with black lacework embellishments along the neckline and sleeves.  She wore simple accessories but her beaming smile was her best one.   She waved her hand to dismiss the compliment but chuckled at her son’s praise.

“Early as always, Edward!” William remarked as he clapped Jaggers on the back. He too was wearing a dark tailcoat but unlike his son, his cravat and waistcoat were white. 

“Has Michael arrived?” Jaggers asked, knowing full well the answer was no.  He did not know why but he felt an extreme case of rivalry towards Michael that day. Maybe since he knew he would overhear multitudes of comparisons between him and his younger brother. 

“What do you mean, my son? Michael is not coming.” William replied.

“What?”

“He had to administer last rites unexpectedly,” Henrietta replied in an off-hand way. “Disappointing, to be sure but at least one dear son of mine is here.”

Jaggers was split by this comment. On one hand, he internally rejoiced over not having to deal with Michael’s insufferableness and on the other, he felt annoyed Michael had a reason to not be here whereas he did not.

“I see,” Jaggers uttered in a clipped voice.

“Come, Edward, there will be plenty of other people whom you can speak to!” Henrietta coaxed.

He gave a mere half shrug and a grunt to this, causing his mother to laugh.  She came up and gave him a kiss on his cheek but whispered in his ear.

“Actually, I knew Michael would not be able to come. I only said he would because I know how he behaves upon learning you are not present.  That usually is enough reason to draw you out.”

Jaggers’s jaw dropped when his mother pulled back and winked at him.   He couldn’t even be annoyed with his mother’s deception. The lawyer in him was much more impressed with her cleverness and cunning.  What a pity she was not allowed to have a profession, she could have been an excellent general or politician.

He could not help but laugh at this, though he had been fooled. Henrietta rubbed his back and the pair walked arm in arm down the hallway.  

 

Whatever excuse or claim that Michael used to make him unable to attend, Jaggers wished he used first! How long did last rites even take to administer?! He was seated in between a Mrs. Fredericks and her seventeen-year-old niece. The niece was determined not to look at him. He was content to sip his claret in lieu of having to talk to anyone. However, his mother kept shooting looks at him, tilting her head subtly towards the young woman on his left.

He shook his head but his mother gave him a look that said she was entirely serious and to stop being such a child.  He frowned and sighed at her but cleared his throat.

“Ah, I apologize but do you go by Miss Fredericks or another surname?”

The girl froze, barely able to look at him. She trembled like a frightened rabbit.  “It is Miss Capshaw”

“I see. How do you like London? I understand you are from Castle Combe?”

“Yes.” Miss Capshaw replied in a voice barely above a whisper.

Jaggers looked at his mother with an expression that read “See?!” but his mother was pointedly looking in another direction.

“Elizabeth, dear! Did you know that Mr. Jaggers here is an established lawyer? A very established and successful lawyer!” Mrs. Fredericks chimed.

Jaggers tried to smile but it only looked strained. “You are very kind, Mrs. Fredericks. I can assure you that such praise is-“

“Oh, nonsense, young man! How else should you be introduced?”

Her praise did nothing to sway her rabbit-like relative.   Neither Mr. Jaggers nor Miss Capshaw spoke again but there was something that caught Jaggers’s attention.  

“And she never left Satis House! I tried to call on her but some little servant girl told me Miss Havisham was ill!”

Jaggers turned his head and craned his neck a little to see who was talking about Miss Havisham. 

“Such a shame but the girl was rather foolish! After all, did she not think to consult anyone on who this Compton fellow was?”

“Was his name Compton? I thought it was Cromwell?”

Jaggers bit his lip to not respond to what he just heard.  He couldn’t care one lick that the women were misstating Compeyson’s name but he bristled at hearing people call Miss Havisham foolish.  Who did she have to ask about Compeyson and where he came from or learn about his connections?

_She had you, old chap. You tried to tell her. You gathered information about the blackguard and it was nowhere near enough to convince her down her downward path!_

He mentally shook himself. No! That was unfair of him. Miss Havisham was not his to advise in that manner and he overstepped his bounds by not asking her if he could look into her suitor.  Jaggers imagined it had nothing to do with him investigating Compeyson, but her anger came from him not consulting.  The thought caused him to smile wryly. How very much like her father she was!

Jaggers learned years later why Mr. Havisham chose to bring him under his employ.  Tulkinghorn was notorious for acting on his own interests over a client’s. Jaggers discovered Tulkinghorn had once made a decision without consulting Havisham on the matter and although it ultimately was good advice, the principle of it caused Havisham to promptly discontinue his services from the older solicitor.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard Mrs. Fredericks’s pronounced cluck (her voice sounded like one) cut through his thoughts.

“Mr. Jaggers! Did you know the Havisham family? I had been told you used to represent her father?”

He hesitated to respond.  Just as he opened his mouth, Mrs. Ardley began to speak. “Alistair told me you worked rather extensively with him, Mr. Jaggers! I believe you were also responsible for executing his last will and testament?”

Jaggers cursed internally. Those damned gentleman clubs were ten times worse than any social circle for gossip.  All eyes were upon him. He really had no choice but to speak.

“I did. I did not know him in any other context other than business, Madame.” Jaggers replied smoothly.

“Oh! But Mr. Tulkinghorn told Mr. Ardley that Mr. Havisham thought of you as a fine young man and had you in his home for supper! Have you ever spoken to Miss Havisham?”

A pack of wolves, he thought with disgust. What purpose would this serve?! What good would it do these strangers to Miss Havisham to know about her so they could talk about her and laugh?!

Jaggers carefully schooled his expression, “Not socially, I have not.  She is a quiet woman, polite, however.”

He resumed cutting up his beef. He could feel several pairs of eyes on him, waiting for him to offer some tidbit but none came. 

“I heard her father willed her his brewery! Surely, you must have spoken to her and advised her about the dealings!” Mrs. Ardley insisted again.

Jaggers clenched his hands tightly around his silverware.  Horrid she-wolf!  Jaggers had to collect himself before responding. “Miss Havisham was capable and understood her father’s instructions well. My services were really not needed.”

“Did you know of this Compton fellow?”

Jaggers conveniently took a sip of his claret. “No, Madame. I was not made aware of Miss Havisham’s personal affairs.  My work does not allow me much time to investigate such trivialities.”

His tone was abrupt in the last sentence. Jaggers did not mean to sound cutting but he was truly fed up with the gossip-seeking antics. Miss Havisham was off-limits. 

Unfortunately, his tone and stiffness did not go unnoticed. The table was deadly quiet and Mrs. Ardley looked taken aback at the younger man’s response.   Mrs. Jaggers looked stone-faced at her son’s response, eyes flickering with disappointment.  No one said anything for a few moments until Mrs.Fredericks resumed the discussion…back to Miss Havisham again and the cost of the wedding.

Jaggers was ignored for the rest of the evening but he could feel his mother’s gaze on him throughout dinner.  He knew she should apologize to Mrs. Ardley but she didn’t deserve it. She was behaving in an uncouth manner and someone had to tell the old hen to be quiet. 

 

* * *

 

His mother was stiff towards him when he left that evening. She was clearly still annoyed with him from earlier in the evening. His father gave a half shrug and made no mention of it.  Jaggers could tell the lawyer in his father was on his side but as a husband and host, he had to look somewhat stern over Edward reprimanding Mrs. Ardley. 

 It was as if Jaggers had a proverbial storm cloud over his head.  He couldn’t stand these friends of his parents! Had no one anything better to talk about but a poor, unfortunate person who bore a deep tragedy? Jaggers was deep in his thoughts that he failed to notice a sizeable crack in the pavement.  Fortunately, he caught himself from falling but as he righted himself, he saw himself standing in front of a confectioner’s.  His eyes fell towards the large display of sweets neatly arranged in the window.  He saw a rather beautiful fruit and cream tart sitting on a lace doily atop of several tarts and small pies.   

_“I trust you have had time to review the documents, Mr. Havisham?” Jaggers asked as he walked alongside the older man._

_“I have, Mr. Jaggers.  I do have a question regarding the third paragraph about the barley-oh, could you kindly excuse me for a moment? I wish to stop inside that confectioner’s shop!”_

_Both men went inside. Jaggers pretended to not look too interested but the smells of sugar and vanilla cast a spell on him. Jaggers wandered over to a display of chocolate boxes.  He didn’t realize Mr. Havisham tapping on the shoulder right away._

_“Shall we? I apologize for this small detour.”_

_As the two men exited, Jaggers couldn’t help his curiosity. “May I ask what you purchased? I was looking at some of the truffles. My mother quite enjoys them.”_

_Mr. Havisham smiled, “A fruit tart for Amelia. She loves them very much and she has been very patient and helpful to me in these past months.  Amelia has been showing great interest in helping me prepare for our meetings, advising me on meetings with shareholders, and the like.”_

_Jaggers was surprised to hear that.  The other day, Mr. Havisham presented brilliantly in front of potential shareholders and knew exactly what to say to each man when he was shaking hands after the meeting. Jaggers knew that Miss Havisham was sharp but for a woman with no formal business education, she advised her father very well!_

_“You are lucky, Sir, to have children invested in your work. Does your son share similar interests?”_

_Havisham looked a bit less cheerful and more hesitant, “My son…my son is young. He will need to learn there is more to the world than fine clothes, money, and privilege. I came from nothing, Mr. Jaggers. I am proud I can provide luxuries to my children that I once dreamt of as a youth.  It would perhaps do Arthur well to learn in the same way to know these things are not permanent. He must learn how to prepare for a future.”_

_Jaggers nodded sagely at this.   Though he too grew up like the Havisham children,  he had his own reasons for working hard._

_Suddenly, Mr. Havisham remembered Amelia again and opened the small dessert box.  “I was never overly fond of these tarts but the girl adores strawberries._

_The tart was glazed in sugar, making the strawberries shine deliciously.  The cream looked and smelled fresh and the tart was the perfect golden brown.  Jaggers had a half a mind to buy one for himself but he felt oddly shy about doing so in front of his client._

_“It looks delicious, Sir. I am sure Miss Havisham will be grateful.”_

_Havisham closed the box and got a slightly wistful look in his eye. “I know she will be.  Mellie has always been appreciative of everything. From the smallest gesture, she has always shown true gratitude. It only pushes me to do my best for her.”_

Jaggers stared at the dainty and vibrant dessert under the glass lid.  Well, it was too late now but perhaps in the morning, he could ask Mrs. or Mr. Francis if they could kindly make a stop and bring home strawberry tart.   

It was madness but after this evening, Jaggers was thoroughly convinced Miss Havisham deserved a nice strawberry tart.   She didn’t have to know who it came from but he could imagine her gratitude just the same.

* * *

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Amelia regarded the pale blue box skeptically. Letters were understandable but…a gift? What was E planning? Surely, if the mysterious letter writer was not above sending gifts what if it meant a visit would be next?

She paused at that thought.  Would she really be bothered by a visit by whoever E was? Her curiosity certainly had been piqued and they had been corresponding for some time. She also knew E had been a former acquaintance of hers at some point so it wouldn’t be as though a stranger would be coming.  
  
However, it still conflicted Amelia to want to meet the mysterious E and keep their correspondence as it was. Writing letters provided a sense of anonymity. She didn’t have to see their face looking falsely concerned or unable to disguise their horror at her current state.   Better still, not allowing E into her home made her feel that she still had some control over it.   An intruder would only ruin things and make her feel truly mad.

Amelia often wondered if she were mad. Surely it could not be normal to wear a decaying wedding gown close to nine months or to remain locked up with nearly no contact with the outside world (save for her correspondences with E). However, she felt this couldn’t be madness. It made perfect sense for her to wear her wedding gown until the end of her life. She could not ever forget what happened to her. The deception, her foolishness.  This gown served as her reminder she was to never trust another man again.  Leaving her home would mean she was defenseless and open to attack by some horrid man with a charming smile and a twinkling eye.

If she left the house wearing a normal gown, she could only imagine what could happen.  He would tip his hat, he’d have a soft and kindly voice with eyes gentle and earnest.  He’d offer her his arm, listen politely, and his manners would be most refined.  This man…this serpent would be erudite and worldly. His intellect would be impressive rather than irritating and but he’d have enough interest in recreational activities to make him enjoyable to spend time with. He would cast a spell over her with pretty words, sounding sincere and truthful in his praise towards her.  It wouldn’t take long for her to invite him into her home. She would fall further and further into those deep, beautiful eyes and then…

The dragon would scorch her inside and out.  Amelia would be left with nothing, not even the will to live.  This time, if she let another man in, it would be of her own doing. She was the one who knew better this time and still she did not listen to reason and good sense. No. Her wedding dress was her armor and Satis House her fortress. 

She shook her head of these thoughts and her eyes fell on the box.  Amelia did not touch it and continued to stare at it for minutes.  Her thoughts raced over why E would send a gift.   What did E want from her? Did this mean she had to send something back?  How could she reciprocate if she didn’t know why he or she did this?

 

“Miss? Is everything alright?” Katie’s voice sounded, shutting the door to her intrusive thoughts. Amelia felt herself return to the present. Her young maid was proving to have a positive influence on her. Katie often talked of simple things like her youth and her countless siblings.  The girl had a pleasant voice that soothed her. Almost like a lullaby but she was not supposed to fall asleep. She did, however, drift off to some place safe in her mind.   A place where she did not need her armor or her fortress…to some time when she was looked after and could trust freely.    
  
“E has sent me a box with a letter,” Amelia replied flatly.

“Why! That was kind of E! What is in the box, Miss?” Katie asked brightly.  Though it was extremely rare for the maid to receive gifts, she would genuinely be excited to see what wonderful things came in packages.  Even if they were not for her, her interest in what the mysterious contents would be exceeded any chances of jealousy or wistfulness.   Katie just liked seeing if she was right or wrong when the box would be opened.  She was right most of the time with her guesses whenever Miss Havisham received a parcel. 

Amelia shrugged. “I do not know if I wish to open it.”

This deflated Katie a little.   She picked up the pretty blue box gently and looked at Amelia for approval if she could inspect it. Her mistress’s brow remained furrowed in thought but she did not motion for her to put it down.   Katie turned the box around and found the label for Allendale’s Confectionary.

“Oh! It is from the confectioner’s! Perhaps it is chocolate! Or marzipan!” Katie exclaimed with delight.  Marzipan was a weakness for Katie. Granted, it was rare for her to eat it and usually only during Christmas but she could only imagine the sweet and nutty taste on her tongue. 

This got Amelia’s attention. Unfortunately, sweets were a weak spot for her.  So much so that her governess used to scold her quite a lot when she was a little girl for overindulging.  Surprisingly, her mother would intercede on Amelia’s behalf and would brush off the concerns Amelia would grow stout.

_“Come, Mrs. Denningham! She is only a little girl! Allow her just a small spoonful more!” Mrs. Havisham coaxed._

_“Madame, I understand your motherly affections but the child will not fit into her dress! I will have to-“_

**_“_ ** _Tailor it, yes. It can be done and Mellie will reduce naturally as she gets older.  Please…let the child have a little pleasure in the day between lessons and…everything else.” Mrs. Havisham murmured the last bit to herself._

_She did not want to say it out loud but she knew she was dying.  Her illness kept her confined to bed nearly all day but she truly felt better when her young daughter stayed in her room with her.  Weak and tired as she felt, hearing her daughter’s squeaky and childlike babblings soothed her of the dreadful pain wracking her body._   _Mrs. Havisham then began instructing the governess to bring tea into her room so she could spend some time with Amelia before…before it was all over._

_“Come here, darling. It’s alright. I hope you will not be frightened like you were last time.”  Mrs. Havisham beckoned for Amelia.  Yesterday, Mrs. Havisham was unable to stop coughing and blood was found in her tissue.  Unfortunately, some of the blood dripped onto her bottom lip, causing Amelia to scream and cry in terror.   Mrs. Havisham was feeling a little better today but she felt that too much talking would cause her to weaken again.  It pained her deeply to see her Mellie so frightened from yesterday. Thankfully, the child was playing as if it had been forgotten but Mrs. Havisham would have to do something to make sure that was not her daughter’s last memory of her._

_Amelia toddled over to her mother and looked surprised when Mrs. Denningham lifted her up under the arms and placed her beside her mother in the bed. So many times she was not allowed to be there, on the grounds she would disturb her mother.   Mrs. Havisham spread a generous amount of cream onto a freshly baked scone and then topped it with glistening red strawberry jam. She cut the scone in half and offered it to Amelia. The child gobbled it down in seconds, the sweet and sticky jam dribbling only a bit down her chin and the cream dotting her lips._

_“Amelia! That is no way for a-“ Mrs. Denningham began to scold but Mrs. Havisham laughed.  She laughed long and with genuine delight upon seeing Amelia’s cream and jam covered mouth and chin. She wiped Amelia’s mouth as the little girl eyed the remaining half of the scone.  Mrs. Havisham hugged her daughter tightly and then began to silently weep._

_“Do you enjoy sweets, Mellie? I always have too.  Every time you eat a sweet thing, I hope you remember me. I hope you remember the joy it brings me to see you happy.  You are my favorite sweet, my darling. The very one I cannot get enough of.”_

“May I open it, Ma’am? Please? It may not be very fresh if we leave it in the box.”  Katie asked.

Amelia nodded slowly. For some reason, her heart was pounding fast.  _Don’t be a fool, Havisham! It’s a confectioner’s box! It's hardly poison! Or wait…what if….what if it was something dangerous? What if someone was after her fortune and wanted to kill her to get to it? E could very well be a relative of hers and…it would explain how they knew so much about her!_

“No! No, Katie. Do not open it! It could be poisoned. Leave it alone! Throw it away at once!” Amelia ordered.

Katie paused and looked up at her employer with surprise. “W-who would do that to you? Surely it is alright! There is still wax on the-“

“No. I want you to discard it immediately!  We still do not know who sends us these letters. There was no reason for the gift and I cannot trust it. Do you understand? We cannot be foolish to trust that it is safe. Who is to say that E is only trying to earn my confidence so that I-“

Amelia trailed off and stood up abruptly.  “I wish to rest.  I do not want to see that box. Discard it immediately.”

Katie murmured apologies and took the box away. Amelia watched her leave until the door closed behind her.  
  
She was not mad. Amelia was perfectly sane.  She was prepared for battle. 

Amelia walked out of the room, ignoring the letter on the table. She did not open it this time.  


 

Katie walked behind the house with the blue box in her hand.  She felt disappointed to have to throw away the dessert. However, the look of abject fear and anger in Miss Havisham’s face told her it was best to do as she was told.   Just as she was about to place in a large box for refuse, her curiosity overtook her obedience.  Katie looked up and around to see if her mistress was watching. She used her fingernail to open the wax and pried the top of the lid off. 

“Oh!” Katie breathed as she peered into the box. It was a beautiful strawberry tart.  This was even better than marzipan. This was…this was the only sort of dessert she could dream of eating.  So many dinners she had seen where her employers dined on such exquisite meals and desserts!  Of course, she and Mrs. Dawkins would sometimes eat any remaining shares of food but it never looked as beautiful by the time they got to eat it and their foods were never as fine on a daily basis. 

Just once…just once she would like to eat something perfect on an ordinary day. Something beautiful like it was just for her and no one else.  Yes, she knew it was meant for Miss Havisham and her mistress had a specific request.  But it was proving impossible to discard it when it was nestled so nicely in the wax paper, without any bites taken out of it or any crumbs littered across the box…would it be so bad if she ate a little of it?  Surely, Miss Havisham was mistaken about it being poisoned! E seemed like a perfectly decent person and only meant to send a gift to cheer up her mistress.  

Katie leaned against the wall. Mrs. Dawkins was out to the market and Miss Havisham was resting. There was nothing else to do so it would not be as if she was shirking her duties.  Katie carefully picked up the tart from the box and sniffed it.  Oh, it smelled divine!  It was not as warm as it was when it arrived in the morning but it did not matter.   Katie took a small, lady-like bite as she had seen the fine ladies do during the dinners and luncheons she served them at.   She closed her eyes and savored the flaky crust, sweet cream, and tangy strawberries meld together on her tongue and teeth.  This was far better than any piece of marzipan or chocolate! She took her time in chewing and allowing the flavors to stay in her mouth for as long as possible. 

To think people could eat these things every day! They probably thought nothing of throwing away foods as rich and delicious as this but Katie would savor each bite and remember it forever.  Who knew when she would be able to enjoy something like this? She took another bite of her tart until she heard a voice call out to her.

Katie froze upon seeing a tall gentleman about fifteen feet from her.  His clothes were neat but not as refined as someone like Mr. Havisham’s.  For some reason, she immediately felt as though she must stop eating and throw the tart away.  He was a stranger to her but eating such decadent food in front of a gentleman felt inappropriate for her station.  Hastily she put the tart back in the box and was about to drop it in the refuse box but the gentleman stopped her.

“Forgive me, Miss. I did not mean to disturb you.  I-I am afraid I am a bit lost. May I please request your assistance?”

Katie felt small standing in front of this much taller man.  She really should not be speaking to him but he was merely asking for some help.

“I am not sure what I can do but where are you going?” Katie mumbled, not looking at him directly. 

“I am looking for the office of Tulkinghorn and Jaggers. I begin my employment with them tomorrow and I have only arrived in this part of London last week.  I do not know where Nivens Road is. If you could tell me where to go, I shall be very grateful.”

Katie finally looked up and wished she hadn’t. The man was deeply handsome. He had wide, green eyes with finely shaped brows and thick lashes. His lips were full and looked soft. His teeth were perfectly white and straight too.   Of course, he also had to have a strong jawline and high cheekbones.  Some strands of chestnut brown hair escaped under the brim of his hat and fell just so across his brow.   A man like him should not be talking to someone as lowly as her. 

 

She did, however, know very well where Nivens Road was.  All she had to do was tell the gentleman where it was and then he’d go away.   Simple.

“You must go half a mile past this house before turning left on Archwood Lane.  Walk east for about one mile or so and then you will come to Nivens Road.”

Katie felt her cheeks warm when the gentleman smiled.  _Damn him_ , she thought. His smile had to be perfect too with his dimples and eyes crinkling at their corners. 

“Thank you! Oh, I have walked aimlessly in circles for some time now!  I consider myself most fortunate for having encountered you, Miss…?”

Katie shook her head. “Not Miss. I am a maid.”

He looked puzzled at that. “But you are a lady.  May I know the name of the first friendly soul I have happened upon since my arrival?”

Katie’s brain told her not to say anything or to tell him her mistress would not approve but her lips paid no mind.

“Katie.” She answered in a voice barely above a whisper.  She wasn’t looking at him now. Katie didn’t want to look at him anymore because handsome gentlemen like him were not for women like her. 

“Katie…?” he prompted. She could hear a note of lightheartedness in his voice.  _Oh dear_ , she thought.

“Michaels. I’m Katie Michaels.”

“Miss Michaels, I am pleased to make your acquaintance. I truly did not mean to disturb you as you were-

For some reason, the more he talked, Katie grew defensive. That was quite enough! She told him where to go and now they were talking for much too long! There was no need for all this conversation. He was going to get her in trouble and-

“Please, I would like to repay you in some way.  Is your employer home? I would like to tell them of your help in this matter.”

Katie blinked. Was he mad?!  Well, either way, this fellow needed to leave. Of course, she had to remember he was socially above her and she could not shoo him away like a street child!

“No! I do not want you to do that, Sir.  You must go and you cannot come back. My mistress does not want visitors and I must return to work. I am sorry, you must leave now.”

The gentleman looked surprised at her request for him to leave. “Miss Michaels, I mean no harm! Of course, I will leave now if you wish it. Forgive me…I will not trouble you again.”

He quickly backed away and tried to smile kindly to show he was harmless but Katie promptly dropped the confectioner’s box and gathered her skirts as she took two steps at a time. 

Katie didn’t know why but she felt her eyes burn as soon she got inside the kitchen. Why was this affecting her so much? She was accustomed to seeing men like him all the time pass through this house months ago! She was perfectly fine with seeing her mistress eat such wonderful foods and let plenty of it go to waste.  But…she had no right to do the same.  It was her lot in life to accept that some things were not for her and some things were for other people but it was unfair that she had no say this!

It never bothered her to feel deprived like this but what had she done to earn this fate? She had no freedom to eat and drink as she wished or even talk to anyone she wanted to! If Miss Havisham knew she was eating the tart and talking to a strange man, she would be out on the street! No one would take her since it was doubtful her employer would not give her a reference.  She could have nothing nice on a regular working day. Katie sighed and pulled herself together. _That was what dreams were for_ , she mused.  She began rearranging things on the cooking table and then paused for a moment.

 

She never learned the gentleman’s name.

 

* * *

 

 

The letter and the confectioner’s box must have put Miss Havisham in a poor mood because she refused all food and demanded to be left alone to rest. Mrs. Dawkins was mending something while Katie peeled potatoes for tomorrow’s lunch.  She did her duties responsibly and made little complaint about hanging the wash up.  Her small height made it difficult for her to reach the clothesline and it was annoying having to hop up and down to put clothes up and take them down.   She did her best not to think about the late morning and determinedly put it out of her mind.  Mrs. Dawkins was quite helpful in providing a distraction for her as he ordered Katie about for the remainder of the morning and afternoon.  Her feet hurt and her hands were red from the exertion of washing clothes and hanging them up in the cold air.   She did not need a mirror to know her hair looked a mess under her bonnet or her face was worn with tiredness.  

Katie’s head snapped up upon hearing a knock at the front door. What on earth?  She looked up with puzzlement at Mrs. Dawkins. Mrs. Dawkins turned her head to Katie and motioned for her to see who it was.  “Go see and then shoo them away.  Tell them the usual.” 

The younger maid did her best not to roll her eyes at Mrs. Dawkins’s bossiness.  Of course, she had to get up, walk on her aching feet, and listen to some silly lady or gentleman explain their interest in meeting Miss Havisham. They were all “old friends” or knew her father but Katie was no fool.  None of these people had ever come to Satis House even as guests, let alone as friends. 

From time to time, ladies and gentlemen, eager for gossip, would come and ask to see Miss Havisham.  They all wanted to witness her poor mistress in her state so they had something to laugh about! Such horrid people, Katie thought bitterly.   


Katie tightened her face and prepared her speech in her mind for why they were not to come to the door.  As she pulled it open, she gasped aloud.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!” Katie hissed in the loudest whisper. She wanted to scream but that would get Mrs. Dawkins to come or worse, Miss Havisham would wake up. 

The gentleman immediately removed his hat. “I do not wish to cause you alarm! I promise I am not here to speak to your mistress.  You made that very clear not to do so but I-“

“Please, Sir! My mistress will not want you to talk to me. You cannot come back here again!”

He blinked and his expression appeared a bit crestfallen. Katie felt guilt but it was for both of their sakes. This gentleman could not return.

“I see. I just…I only wanted to give you this. I feel responsible for you dropping your sweet this afternoon.” 

The man produced a rose-pink box with a gold ribbon. Katie looked at it with amazement.  He continued to speak. “You were very helpful this afternoon but I am afraid I caused you some distress as well as ruined your tart.   I hope you enjoy it and I am restored in your good graces.”

Without looking at her, he handed her the box and nervously bowed his head.  He turned to go and descended the steps much like Katie had left him earlier in the day.

Katie didn’t know what possessed her to do it but she quickly began following him out the door, completely disregarding the unseemly nature of her pursuing him.  He had not left the courtyard just yet.  

“Wait!” Katie cried out.  Thankfully, the gentleman stopped and looked at her curiously.   Katie curtsied as nicely as possible. “Thank you. For this.” She held up the box and gave him a lopsided grin. 

She really shouldn’t have smiled because it invited him to smile broadly in return.  It seemed like it would be such an easy thing, to make him smile.  Katie knew she was being a fool but it was not every day a handsome man brought a tart…just for her.

“What is your name? You know mine but I do not-I did not ask you yours.” She mumbled shyly.  Her voice had always been soft but this time it was so quiet he had to lean forward to hear her.

“Frederick Bernard.” He removed his hat again and lowered his head.  “Miss Michaels, I shan’t keep you any longer. I do not wish to lower my favor in your eyes any further by getting you into trouble with your employer.  Thank you for your help. Perhaps I shall see you again?”

Katie said nothing to that, nervously looking down.  Her silence was enough of a response and Mr. Bernard nervously cleared his throat.  

He bowed his head once more before he turned back to the gate.  Mr. Bernard gave her one last glance and smiled again.  This smile was a bit different than the one he gave her when she called him back or from earlier in the morning. This smile didn’t reach his eyes fully.  _He probably knows too. You can’t ever see him again and it is just the way it must be._  

* * *

 

Mrs. Dawkins paid no mind when Katie returned to the house. “Was it a stubborn person?” she muttered without looking up.

“Yes. Very stubborn.” Katie replied softly. She tucked the little box into her apron pocket. She would have to eat it after Mrs. Dawkins went to sleep.  Katie picked up a potato before she heard Miss Havisham’s bell.  “You go.” Mrs. Dawkins ordered again, still not looking up from her sewing.

Katie internally sighed and got up to see what the mistress wanted.  As soon as she entered Miss Havisham’s bedchamber, she felt sympathetic to seeing her laid up in bed, looking sad and poorly.

“Miss, would you like me to bring you some tea?”  Katie asked softly.

“No, Katie. Don’t trouble yourself. I wanted to talk, that is all.”

Katie sat at the foot of the bed.  “What did you want to talk about, Ma’am?”

Amelia shrugged. “I am regretting I told you to throw that tart away. I don’t know why I thought it would be poisoned…I am sure it was a perfectly edible tart but…my imagination ran away with me.”

The younger woman felt sympathetic to her employer. Katie carefully took out the pink confectioner’s box from her pocket. “Would you like to share mine, Ma’am?”

“Where did you get that, Katie?”

Katie froze for a moment. Oh no…if she told Miss Havisham about Mr. Bernard, her mistress would start screaming and breaking things.  Miss Havisham insisted at least eight to ten times in a conversation that men were dangerous and wicked.  Katie remembered a particularly uncomfortable lecture Miss Havisham gave her.  Since Katie was young and a maid, men would especially pray upon her. Her low station would force her to allow men to have their way with her and there would be nothing she could do to stop it.  No one pitied maids about these things and it was much easier to dismiss a maid than pursue justice on her behalf.

“I had been saving some of my wages, Ma’am. “

Miss Havisham smiled for the first time that day and brushed Katie’s hand before giving it a squeeze. “You are a good girl, Katie. So very sensible and smart…much more than I have ever been.  I would not be angry if you wished to have it for yourself.”

“No, Ma’am. We can share. My mama always told me that sweet things are always better when you share them.” 

Amelia smiled again, looking almost like the woman she was before Mr. Compeyson came into her life.  Katie broke the tart in half and handed a portion to her mistress.  

Katie felt guilt as she ate the pastry, sweet and delicious as it was.  Mr. Bernard’s face kept floating in her mind. She hated keeping him a secret and she desperately wanted someone to talk to about him but none of the women in this house would take the news well.    If only her mistress were not so mistrustful of men! Surely, there were still some men Miss Havisham did not hate! Perhaps if she thought well of one of them, then maybe she could safely bring up Mr. Bernard at another time.  Katie continued to nibble on her tart, the wheels in her brain turning. Suddenly, an idea hit her when her eyes fell on an envelope by Miss Havisham’s bed.  
  
“Miss? Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Katie. What is it?”

“Do you ever wonder who E could be? “

“Yes. I wonder that quite a lot, actually.”

“Do you ever wonder if E is a man or a woman? I was thinking about that the other day.” Katie mused innocently. 

Amelia paused before taking a bite. She would be lying if she didn’t say she didn’t wonder. So many times she tried to deduce the identity by words or the handwriting. 

“What do you think, Katie?”

“I think it is a man, Miss,”  Katie replied honestly.  “The hand, though neat, seems like a man’s. I can’t explain it but sometimes the way E writes sounds like-I do not know but something in my mind tells me that E is a man.”

Amelia looked pensive, much to Katie’s surprise.  Slowly, Miss Havisham began to nod.

“You may be right, Katie. I, too, have suspected it for some time. The trouble is that…I know no man with the name starting with the letter E.  I am not even sure if E may be the real initial.”

“Miss, we can find out! I can always go and-“

Amelia waved her hand. “I’d rather not.  It is strange to say but I like not knowing who E is. It makes it feel a bit safer…especially if it were a man.”

“But Ma’am, so far E has been very kind and well-mannered! He already knows you and-“

“Katie, I cannot afford to trust that idea! I thought-I thought _he_ was kind and well-mannered. It means nothing when men say kind things and bring gifts.  Truth and loyalty mean so much more but those qualities are so difficult to find.”

“Surely, you know some truthful and loyal men!” Katie argued. “What about your father or any of those gentlemen who helped run the brewery? Or what about that solicitor, Mr. Jaggers?”

Amelia smiled sadly, “Yes, all those men were truthful but do you see these men calling on me or inquiring after my well-being? No, they have deserted me.”

_That’s because you told them all to go away and never return…except for your father, God rest his soul._

Amelia noticed the look on Katie’s face.  “It is too late for me to invite them back. They have all moved along and as far as they are concerned, I am a madwoman. They would do well to stay away from me.” 

Neither woman said anything for a long time and resumed eating the tart.   Amelia told Katie she wished to go back to sleep.  As Katie was leaving, Amelia called out to her softly.

“Can you please bring my letter? I did not read it yet.”

Katie tried not to smile.  “Of course.  Good night, Miss.”

 

When Katie settled into bed for the night, she replayed the memory of meeting Mr. Bernard again.  When he asked her name, she didn’t feel like a lowly maid. He called her a lady! He thought of her again which is why he returned with the confectioner’s box. Surely…

But deep down, Katie knew Miss Havisham was right.  Her own father left her mother destitute and with one too many mouths to feed.  Just because Mr. Bernard brought addressed her like she was more than what she was and brought her a pastry, it did not mean he was a kind or good man. 

As Katie drifted off to sleep, the last thought she had was wondering if Frederick was thinking about her too.

 


	7. Chapter 7

_Dear E,_

_Before I can begin answering your letter, I wish to thank you for the strawberry tart. It was not necessary for you to send a gift but it was appreciated just the same.  From a fellow sweet lover to another, I hope you were able to procure one for yourself._  
  
_More than the tart, I especially appreciated your letter. I did not think you would write up lists but I certainly enjoyed reading them.  Since you put time and effort into drafting such meticulous lists, I should be remiss if I did not do the same._

_ Foods I Enjoy _

_Fruit Preserves_

_Chocolate_

_Tarts (all kinds)_

_Roast Beef_

_Carrots_

_Cucumber Sandwiches_

_Roasted Potatoes_

_Fresh Bread_

_Chicken Soup (the sort Katie makes)_

_Apples_

_Strawberries_

_Pears_

_Smoked Herring_

_Porridge with Honey_

_Bacon_

_Roast Mutton_

_Cheese_

_ Foods I Do Not Enjoy _

_Pineapple  
Squash_

_Pumpkins_

_Spinach_

_Yogurt_

_Leeks_

_Onions_

_Elderberries_

_Eel_

_Oysters_

_Duck_

_Parsnips_

_Turnips_

_Radishes_

_Bananas_

_There were some foods on your lists such as strawberries, apples, and pears that I enjoy and some I was quite curious about. I do not believe I have even heard of the Three Cripples Pub. You say the meat pies they are your favorite thing to eat. I must confess that I have never eaten a meat pie before. I do not know why I have not but I cannot say that I have eaten much pub food in my life.  You may or may not be surprised to hear that.   I will also confess that I was oddly pleased to read you do not like leeks or onions either. While it pleases me when I share positive things in common with people, I feel especially glad when I see I am not alone in my dislike for certain things. It makes it seem more justifiable._

_May I ask you another question? Katie and I have been trying to discern this for some time. We are trying to confirm if you are a man or a woman.  We both suspect you must be a man.  You may or may not correct us if you so desire.  Ultimately, it will not make a difference but we were only wondering. You need not worry, however.  We will make no attempt to discover your person if you do not wish us to._  
  
_Now that I have learned your dietary habits, I am curious to know about your leisurely habits.  Do not expect a very detailed answer from me to that question.  There was a time when I certainly enjoyed my leisure activities but I do not have much desire to pursue those interests.  That is actually not entirely true. One of my activities of choice was riddles and puzzles and I do enjoy them when you provide them. I do not say it often enough but I do appreciate and enjoy them. You cannot understand what distraction it provides for me in my cold and dreary days._  
  
_These riddles you wrote were quite a challenge.  Katie and I worked together to finally solve them but we spent so much time trying to decipher the first and last that we completely forgot to have our lunch.  Once we solved them, Katie marked the occasion by making a rather delicious stew. She is an excellent cook, despite her young age._  
  
_The answers to your riddles are as follows:_

  
_1) Bookkeeper_

_2) A promise_

_3) Footsteps_

_I have yet another confession to make. The first and third riddles were so challenging that I nearly tore your letter from frustration. You really ought to thank Katie for stopping me from doing so._

_I think I wrote far too much today. To spare you of my inane chatter, I will refrain from asking you any riddles. Perhaps in my next letter._  
  
_Yours,_  
 _Amelia Havisham_

Jaggers did not have time to read the letter at home and was reading Miss Havisham’s letter in his office.  As a rule, he did not ever bring personal correspondences (not that he had any before) to his office since his home and employment were to be separate at all times. However, he saw the letter on his way out of the house and hastily pocketed it.  He tried sternly to tell himself not to be so excited about her letter but they were truly becoming something he looked forward to. 

In his youth, Jaggers often watched other children play together from the window of his dormitory or his home.  Often, he judged the boys for playing too roughly or loudly with one another.  He didn’t see why any of them would risk dirtying their clothes, getting in trouble, or getting hurt!  Deep down, however, Jaggers felt a little jealous that no one asked him if he wanted to play too.  Of course, he would say no but just being asked or even encouraged to join in would have been enough. 

As Jaggers got older, he often observed young men making plans to socialize at a pub or join a gentleman’s club.  Once, he had gone to the one that belonged to his father and James but it proved to be such a dreadful and uncomfortable experience.

 

_“James…James, when can we leave?” An almost seventeen-year-old Jaggers asked in a sotto voice. The club was crowded and the room was filled with smoke and raucous laughter.  Jaggers’s burned when he saw a friend of his father pull a young, busty maid into his lap and open his mouth for her to feed him some grapes.  He promptly took a swig of wine and proclaimed he was Dionysius incarnate. The other men cheered, laughed, and eagerly drank to this statement._

_Jaggers was incredulous with disbelief at the behavior of these so-called morally upstanding men.  These were all men who sneered and denigrated others of a lower station for their “uncivilized” manner and they behaved just the same in the club!_

_As the men laughed, drank, and ate with enthusiasm, Jaggers sat and carefully observed the room. It wasn’t the hypocritical behavior of the men which made him uncomfortable but he felt small and insignificant watching the camaraderie of the men. They all had stories in common, jokes between them, and gossip they all knew about. Jaggers did not have anyone to turn to and converse about a past experience with.  Jaggers watched James effortlessly walk up to a group of gentlemen and comfortably engage.  His father was able to do the same.  Everyone in the room could and…he couldn’t._

_Enough, he told himself firmly. You’re a Jaggers too! There is no reason you should behave like a ninny! Go, talk to someone!  Jaggers steeled himself and walked over to a group of gentlemen who were engaged in what seemed like a serious conversation.  Their backs were somewhat turned to him but he could hear snatches of conversation.  Earlier in the year, Earl Russell had resigned as the Prime Minister. The Whig Party suffered enormous political defeat. The men were criticizing him for his weakness and inability to form a government._

_From what Jaggers knew, Russell tried his best with very little.  He tried, again and again, to improve lives for the lower classes. He recalled reading some years ago about his Factory Act of 1847. Women and children were no longer being forced to work nonstop and reduced to ten hours maximum._

_Jaggers, later on, reflected he should have introduced himself appropriately but the men were so deep in conversation they did not even notice he was there.  It would look foolish if he just interjected mid-sentence that he was Edward Jaggers, the second son of William Jaggers.  Perhaps…perhaps if he spoke intelligently, the gentlemen would notice him and he could prove that he would be an interesting addition to their club._

_“I believe Russell was a man simply ahead of his time. It is not his fault that members of his own party quarreled as children and frankly speaking, Palmerston likely sought to undermine him!” Jaggers interjected._

_The men immediately paused and stared at him.  The oldest man regarded him with dismay and a little annoyance._

_“Excuse me, young man. Who may you be?”_

_“I am Edward Jaggers.”_

_“Jaggers, you say?”_

_“Yes, sir. I heard your-“_

_“You are…William Jaggers’s son?” the man asked, sounding considerably more displeased this time._

_“Yes, I am. I did not mean to-“_

_The older man held up a hand to him.  “This is a surprise to me.  I did not realize that the senior Mr. Jaggers would have such an ill-mannered son.”_

_The other men gave him sour looks and proceeded to move away from him.  Jaggers stood by himself, angry at himself for behaving so foolishly and embarrassed at being publicly scolded.  He should not have looked up because several men were looking at him as though he said he wanted to assassinate the Queen.   The worst part was when the older gentleman made his way over to his father and the look his father gave him upon hearing what he did._  
  
_Later that night, he overheard the servants in the kitchen talking about the way the Master shouted about the Middle Jaggers being an embarrassment and how was it possible for one of his sons to so socially inept.  “You would think with all the books he reads, he would have found one on basic etiquette!”_

_Jaggers never returned to the club again nor did he join one in his adulthood.  Moreover, Jaggers never spoke to anyone unless spoken to first._

 

 

However, these letters made him feel like he had a friend. Before, he only spoke to Miss Havisham about matters related to the business but didn’t know much about her except for the bits her father would mention.   He caught himself smiling as he read her pleasure at him disliking leeks and onions. He was in full agreement when others disliked the same things that he disliked. 

It was no easy feat to get Jaggers to laugh but he knew full well what Miss Havisham looked like when she became frustrated. He knew it was wrong but a slight chuckle escaped his lips upon imagining her trying to tear the letter up and Katie (whoever she was) trying to stop her from doing so.  Jaggers felt his face warm when he read of her gratitude towards his letters and riddles.  It pleased him far more to read that she enjoyed his letters as much as he enjoyed hers.  As she said, it made it feel more justifiable.

He had quite a bit of work to do this morning but he couldn’t be bothered to start looking at his papers. Jaggers would much rather answer this letter since she did, after all, ask him a question. 

He did notice something unusual about the letter, however. Jaggers saw that Miss Havisham listed “pineapple” as one of her least favorite foods. Odd because he knew that it was once a fruit she enjoyed immensely but then he recalled Arthur thinking it would be enough to earn her forgiveness. She probably associated the fruit with bad memories rather than bad taste. He felt guilty for a moment, recalling the way she accused them all of deceiving her but if only he had been allowed to explain himself. Jaggers would have told her that he tried to tell her the truth. He did his best to warn her but she did not want to hear it!

His musings were interrupted by a knock on his office door. Oh dear, he thought. Tulkinghorn would probably ask him a question about something he was not prepared to answer.  Jaggers would have to think fast. 

Per usual, Tulkinghorn opened the door before Jaggers could grant him permission. _He really needs to stop that_ , Jaggers thought with annoyance.  As Tulkinghorn walked in, a young man followed after him. 

“Ah, are you occupied at the moment?” Tulkinghorn asked.

“Yes.” Jaggers lied, in hopes his senior partner would leave. The young man smiled brightly at him but Jaggers pointedly ignored it. 

“As you are aware, Mr. Heep is no longer in our employ.  It seems he was sharing rather confidential information in order to gain entrance into the club where I am a member.  However, I have procured for us a new clerk. This is Mr. Bernard.”

Jaggers scowled internally at the new clerk.  He already was livid with Mr. Heep for behaving so unprofessionally and almost damaged their professional reputation.  However, training a new clerk would be inconvenient for him by giving him more work.  On top of it, Jaggers immediately took a disliking to whoever this miserable sod was.  He was likely vain and lazy, as young men were wont to be. 

Mr. Bernard smiled again and held out his hand, “How do you do, Sir? I am delighted to meet you and it is an honor after I have heard so much about you!”

Jaggers still did not return the smile and gave an exceptionally brief handshake.  Already the lad was starting off on the wrong foot with him by trying to overflatter him.   Did the fellow think that this would mean that Jaggers would go easy on him? Perish the thought! He would make him work harder now.

Jaggers continued analyzing the young man and only disliked him more.  He was handsome but likely was well aware of that fact. The fool probably carried a small looking glass in his pocket!  This Mr. Bernard probably used his good looks and “charm” to get anything he wanted in life. Surely, he used it to get the position with Tulkinghorn.  The older gentleman fell quite easily for flattering words so he likely hired this peacock on the spot! 

Jaggers was fully aware he was being unfair to judge the young clerk but in his experience, it was people like him who caused him problems.  Jaggers recalled the countless schoolmates who used to flatter their professors into not giving them additional readings or would change the subject of why they had not done their share of work!   These boys were unnecessarily popular and did not have any real substance to their person to justify why everyone would drop common sense in order to please them! 

The clerk did not seem to rankle at Jaggers’s apparent coolness.  Tulkinghorn, however, did notice but tried to smooth things over. Unsuccessfully.

“I trust, Mr. Jaggers, you will help our clerk settle in? Mr. Bernard informed me that he is ready to begin any assignments you entrust him with.”

Jaggers couldn’t hide the dismay on his face and he shot Tulkinghorn an annoyed look.  NO! Did he not just say he was “busy”? Now he had to mind the new clerk like a governess?!

“Forgive me, Sir. It is not that I do not wish to but I am extremely-“

“Then Mr. Bernard can help you!” Tulkinghorn replied cheerfully.  “I know a new clerk will be most helpful for both of us!”

 _You mean to you, you old windbag!_ Jaggers thought with mounting sourness.  Tulkinghorn excused himself and proceeded out the door. 

 

Jaggers sighed coldly and looked back at Mr. Bernard, who promptly stopped looking around at his surroundings and smiled politely at Mr. Jaggers again. 

 _Does this simpering idiot know how to do anything but smile?!_  Jaggers drew himself upright to look taller and nodded curtly.

“Be seated, Mr. Bernard. I have some questions that I must ask you first before I can give you any work.”

Mr. Bernard eagerly sat down and proceeded to take out a small diary and pen.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh! I need to write down what tasks you ask me to do and-“

“Never mind all that. I just want to ask you some questions first. It is clear Mr. Tulkinghorn did not interview you thoroughly or did not request my input on the hiring of a new clerk.” Jaggers replied brusquely.

Mr. Bernard wilted a little and put the diary and pen back in the small case he brought with him.  Jaggers felt meanly pleased to see the younger man look rightly nervous. Good, he thought. He should be.

“Do you have your application?” Jaggers asked. 

“Mr. Tulkinghorn has it, Sir.”

“Do you remember your answers?”

Mr. Bernard blinked at Jaggers, looking rather jarred. “I-I believe I should, Sir.”

“Are you in debt? If you are, how much money do you owe?”

“Why…I am not in debt, Sir.”

“Where did you receive your education?”

Now Mr. Bernard was quiet, looking considerably less cheerful than he walked in.  “I studied in a Board School, Sir.

Jaggers felt a twinge of sympathy for the young man for the first time since meeting him.  If he didn’t dislike him so much for trying too hard, he would have applauded his attempts to raise himself from his low economic ranking and make something of himself.  The only trouble was it made it even more uncertain what the clerk was capable of doing.  Jaggers studied the young man again and realized that he was a little old to be a first time clerk.

“How old are you?”

“I am three and twenty.”

“What were you doing before? Who was your previous employer?”

A tinge of pink spread across Mr. Bernard’s face. “I do not have one, Sir.  I was…I was trying to educate myself for the responsibilities of this job.”

“How so?”

“An old schoolfellow of mine is a clerk now and he told me what I must learn to do and gave me the Clerk’s Manual to teach myself with.”

Jaggers leaned back in his chair and steepled his hands.  This was going to be worse than he thought. The man probably barely knew how to write his own name! \Board schools were notorious for barely teaching their pupils anything! It was just a place to keep low-income children off the streets and from behaving poorly.   Not at all Mr. Bernard’s fault if he was born into that lot and again, commendable that he was trying to make his life better through a respectable profession. However, Jaggers did not have time to take on the work of three people! 

“I see.  I must ask you some more questions.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Jaggers again paused and saw despite the embarrassment Mr. Bernard was experiencing, he was still behaving remarkably in a deferential manner.  Still, not enough to convince him to like the lad.

“Are you married? If yes, do you have children?”

“No, Sir. I am not married and I have no children.”

  
“Are you engaged in any business or partnership other than this one?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are you ill or lame in any manner? If you are, do you have verification from a doctor?”

Mr. Bernard replied in the negative for this.  Jaggers continued asking questions about the lad’s personal nature and history. The man answered everything perfectly. In short and much to the chagrin of Jaggers’, he had no real fault to dismiss him over.  Of course, there would be an immense battle if Tulkinghorn got wind that he sacked the new clerk on the first day.  A battle he was much too disinterested in fighting.

“Very well. I do believe Mr. Tulkinghorn discussed with you the terms of the position?”

Mr. Bernard got that confused and baffled look on his face again. “He did not. Mr. Tulkinghorn simply told me that I could have the job.  I spoke to him outside of the Carlisle.”

Damn those gentlemen’s clubs! Jaggers wanted to pound his fist on the table.  It was the worst-kept secret that in London if one wanted to advance his position, joining a gentlemen’s club was the ticket. However, Jaggers knew a poor man like Mr. Bernard would have to use some dastardly means to get in.

“Are you a member of this club?”

Mr. Bernard shook his head emphatically. “No, Sir. I used to read about law cases in the newspapers and I noted Mr. Tulkinghorn was mentioned on a frequent basis as you are.  I learned through the society pages what social club Mr. Tulkinghorn was a member of and I met with him to ask if I could clerk for him or train under his current clerk. He told me I could have the job.”

Jaggers was silent at this. Begrudgingly, he had to admit the young man was resourceful and bold. He may not have had the social connections or influence to get a job but he just did two of the most important things a decent clerk could do.  He used his resources through reading and had the courage to get what he wanted. Mr. Heep was useless on both of those fronts.   Mr. Bernard might have the potential to be a good clerk but it didn’t mean Jaggers had to like him.

“I must tell you that if you do not adhere to these terms, I will have no issue with dismissing you from the position, is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“The terms of employment are as follows: You will arrive at work from seven in the morning and will leave at five in the evening. I or Mr. Tulkinghorn will ask you to work earlier or later, depending on the workload. During your work hours, you will be prompt, efficient, and tidy.  Your appearance must be clean and neat at all times. Frivolous dress or grooming is not needed nor appreciated.  Your reputation outside of our office is extremely important and any whiff of improper behavior will lead to a direct dismissal. 

 I do not intend to spend much time training you and I expect you to be prepared for any task Mr. Tulkinghorn and I entrust you with.  I also need not tell you that you will be dismissed without question if I hear you spoke about clients to others or discussed cases with newspapers. You speak to no one unless we tell you to.  An effective clerk is not shy or timid. He must have no issue with doing all the legal things in his power to effectively negotiate payments, establishing contracts, and get relevant information for cases.  I also expect you to keep detailed notes in both mine and Mr. Tulkinghorn’s diary for the day.  You will be paid £60 per annum for six months until we decide if your salary is to be raised or lower after the probation period.  Is this doable for you, Mr. Bernard?”

Mr. Bernard had the good sense to not smile in that annoyingly cheerful way but looked serious and determined. “It is, Sir. I am prepared to work.”

“Very well.  I will show you your office.”

This was probably the wrong thing to say because Mr. Bernard lit up. “I get an office? That is very generous and kindly of you. Thank you!”

Jaggers couldn’t hide his annoyance.   “Yes….you do. I expect you to keep it presentable as possible.”

The lawyer led the clerk down the hall and essentially showed him a dark and cramped broom closet. The desk, chair, and shelves were old and dusty.  The room smelled like stale air with no window to open for sunlight or fresh air.   Jaggers silently observed Mr. Bernard who looked a little disappointed at the dismal office but quickly recovered it and wisely thanked Mr. Jaggers again. 

Clever chap, Jaggers thought.  With that, he told Mr. Bernard his first task was to sort through a stack of old cases and organize them by date and alphabet.   “Finish this in one hour. We have other things we must do.” 

 Jaggers proceeded back to his own office and locked the door.  There was plenty of work he could be doing but now they had a new clerk who had quite a lot to prove in his eyes. Jaggers was going to watch this young man like a hawk and the slightest slip would send him packing.   Fine by Jaggers, really. There were plenty of clerks who were clever and resourceful...and were not maddeningly cheerful and overflattering.

 

* * *

 

 

_Dear Miss Havisham,_

_My apologies for the lateness of my response to your letter.  I have been rather busy in my place of employment.  Before I can continue, I must address your question. Yes, I am indeed a man._  
  
_Earlier last week, we received a new employee. I admit the young man is not to my liking. I enjoy silence and privacy. However, the new man in my office is rather opposite. He chatters incessantly, continually asking me about my personal life such as how was my evening the night before and how I am doing in the morning.  He talks to me about things he read in the newspaper and what I think it could mean.  The young man follows me wherever I go and does not understand when I am in a foul mood. If I am cross with him, he continues to smile and speaks in tones most cheerful. He will happily tell me of work he completes and eagerly expects my approval like a puppy.  If I scold him, he will even thank me for it!_

_One afternoon, I told him I did not like the way he arranged my papers for me and I wanted it done in another way.  I must confess my own impoliteness in the matter as there was really nothing wrong with what he had done.  I just wanted him to go away and stop asking me about my family.  I will also admit my tone was not very polite but he only apologized profusely and told me he would be happy to fix the work for me.  He then said he appreciated my instruction and thought my words were valuable lessons._

_Truly, Miss Havisham, I know I am being unfair to the fellow but have you ever encountered someone whose very existence irritates you the core? He has done nothing wrong to me and he does very good work for us.  He is timely, presentable, and works well past the time to go home. The young man listens and does not complain.  However, every time I see his face or hear his voice, I find myself reaching for a letter opener to turn upon my person!_  
  
_I look back at what I have written and I see I have complained an unnecessary amount. Forgive me, I just am at a loss since I have never encountered anyone who is so eager to keep my company!_

_On a more interesting subject than my complaints, I do have leisure activities but I do not partake in them as much as I wish to. Or, one might say they are not particularly interesting.  Still, I shall tell you what they are._

_My List of Leisurely Activities_

_Reading_

_Walking_

_The Seaside_

_Discussion of Politics_

_History  
Listening to my mother’s pianoforte_

_The woods_

_Riddles and puzzles_

_My occupation_

_Well-behaved English Bulldogs_

_Things I Do Not Enjoy_

_Social Gatherings_

_Gentlemen’s Clubs_

_Incessant noise_

_Winter_

_My brother’s sanctimoniousness_

_Mess and disorder_

_Dancing_

_Opera_

_As you can see from this, I am a miserable old fellow but I am as the Good Lord created me.  I hope you are well, Miss Havisham and Katie. I thank you for keeping your mistress from tearing up my last letter._

_I, too, would include riddles in this letter but I believe I have spent far too much time discussing my grievances about my new employee.  Pray for my sanity, ladies._  
  
_Yours,_  
  
_E_  
  
  
_PS_  
  
_Something most peculiar happened just now and yes, it has to do with the junior employee.  From what I gather, he comes from the lower class.  Unfortunately, his position is not the most well paying but that can change based on his work performance (and if he stops annoying me).   He always eats the same bread rolls with a bit of cheese and a small apple.  I only know this because he will ask me what I am eating for lunch and he will (without my prompting) inform me he is eating rolls, cheese, and an apple._

_Mercifully, the employee eats outside if it is dry.  I passed a window and saw him unwrapping his food. A beggar child came up to him and likely asked him for some money.  The fellow has little to spend and likely eats a small amount himself during the day but I saw him give the child his lunch and a pat on the head._

_I asked him about his lunch only to hear what he would say. He lied to me saying he enjoyed it and he was ready to continue working._

_Ordinarily, I would be most displeased over being lied to but for some reason, this has been the first time I have not been irritated by his presence.  I do not know how long this will last but perhaps he is not as horrid as I think him to be.  Odd since I am usually right about most people._  


_Until next time._


	8. Chapter 8

_You can always catch more flies with honey than with vinegar_ , Frederick Bernard thought to himself as he straightened his cravat.   _He will be kind soon…just have patience._

He squinted in his looking glass to make sure he looked appropriate for the office. Unfortunately, the looking glass was old and stained. He could barely see anything in that dirty mirror but upon extremely close inspection, his cravat was tied neatly and was on straight.  

With a deep breath, he picked up his hat and proceeded out the door.  It was never quiet in his flat’s building. Children screamed and cried, men yelled drunkenly at their women, he could hear thudding and thumping of people coming in from a late night. The walls were sticky with God knows what so Mr. Bernard had to walk sideways to avoid brushing up against the wall.

An old woman, one who closely resembled a hag, stopped him before he descended down the steps. She was frightfully ugly but more than her hideousness, she was bitter and cutting. Still, the old woman was his landlady and displeasing her could mean he would be out on the streets…again.

“Where do you think you are going, young Freddy?”

He winced internally.  Frederick hated being called Freddy…namely by people he didn’t like.  Still, he smiled politely and tipped his hat.

“Off to work, Mrs. Phelps.”

“Ha! Off to your imaginary job?”

“It is not imaginary, Ma’am. I am a clerk now.”  Mr. Bernard said carefully, hoping his voice didn’t sound impudent.

Mrs. Phelps laughed with a loud wheeze that turned into a cough.  Mr. Bernard bit his lip when he felt a bit of spittle land on his shirt. 

“A clerk! You expect me to believe that? If you were a clerk, you wouldn’t live in this hellhole! You would be off gallivanting in a country home!”   She laughed again, bending down and clutching her knees.

Mr. Bernard smiled tightly, not at all his usual friendly smile but one where he was desperately trying not to frown.

“I am just a junior clerk and will earn better wages in due time. Excuse me, Ma’am. I must be going.”

“Better wages! Oh, what a grand joke to hear in the morning!” she crowed again as Mr. Bernard side-stepped her.  

 

On his daily walk to work, Mr. Bernard tried to think of all the things he had to be grateful for. It wasn’t easy being cheerful and pleasant…especially when one lived a life like he had.

He had been born out of wedlock to a very young woman who promptly abandoned him. He was found on the doorstep of an old parish and the minister and his wife took him in. The first seven years of his life were decent enough, indigent as the parish was. The priest was kind to him and taught him to read while his wife did her best to care for him with what little they had.  Unfortunately, the priest died from old age and his wife succumbed to grief shortly after, once again leaving young Frederick alone.

The boy roamed the streets for weeks, nearly starving to death before he was collected and sent to the Board School.  From the ages of seven to fifteen, Frederick was in hell. He was bullied mercilessly for his small and skinny frame, his batlike ears and large nose.  His schoolmasters were cruel to the children, punishing them for the smallest perceived infractions or even (what if felt at times) for breathing the wrong way.  He wanted to run away but he had no money, food, or relations to help him.  A miracle came in the form of an old and wealthy man who needed three young men to help him on his estate.  Frederick was miraculously chosen to go along with him.

His job was to assist the Stable Master, who was also growing old with age and could not do much physical labor.   The owner of the property was a strange old fellow, prone to shouting loudly at no one at all and spent hours locked away in his rooms.   His children and their families barely tolerated the old man’s presence and often dismissed him when he spoke.    
  
Once, his old master slipped in a bit of mud and fell. Frederick rushed to help him while the others barely stopped what they were doing.   He yelled at Frederick for coddling him and pushed him away.  Two days later, he instructed for him to come to the house and speak to him every day. 

Over the next seven years, his employer began teaching Frederick valuable skills and giving him an education.  He had been a renowned provost who retired and now had little to do in his days.  His children cared little for education and were waiting for him to die and take his money.

In Frederick, he saw the potential for the young man to be smart and more than just a hired hand.  The boy could be something of substance if someone put time and effort into him.   During the day, Frederick attended the horses and other manual labor jobs.  After dinner, he would sit with the provost and advanced his reading, critical thinking, practical arithmetic, and basic Latin.   Not only did he teach Frederick skills that he could put forth towards employment, but he taught him appropriate etiquette, speech, and other social tools that would allow him to become part of a polite society.   He also insisted that a happy outlook on life was the key to thriving and good manners and a cheerful disposition would get him far.

The provost became like a father to Frederick, much to the chagrin of the rest of the family. They immediately became concerned that Frederick would be included in the will and would wrongly be entitled to some of their father’s wealth.  As soon as the provost died, Frederick was immediately fired and sent away. 

It was his luck that a former Board School schoolfellow had become reacquainted with him and informed him that becoming a clerk was a good way to earn a respectable living.  The schoolfellow gave him the Clerk’s Manual which Frederick studied inside and out over seven months.  For four of the seven months, Frederick barely had any money and no employment prospects.  He did odd and small jobs but hardly enough for adequate shelter or food.  There were several times he made himself sick from eating spoiled food tossed out by a pub or a grocer. How he managed to live was a mystery even to him.

Fortunately for him, during his employment search, a vicar named Thomas Brown allowed Frederick a place to stay, brought him new clothes, and paid him some wages for manual labor and gardening.  He always allowed the younger man to read the newspapers when he was finished with them and would ask him questions about a clerk’s duties to keep him prepared.  Frederick grew strong again under the vicar and of course, he took it deeply to heart when he was told the most valuable phrase he heard.

“You can always catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar.” 

As he walked, Frederick reminded himself that he had a roof over his head, food in his belly, recurring income, clothes that actually fit him, a decent coat and shoes, and he was considered an upstanding member of society for working in a reputable law office.  He should be grateful and pleased that he was not, well, trying to pry a coat off of a dead man to stay warm.   

He was trying to think of something else but then he suddenly paused in the middle of his walk.  It was her again…Miss Michaels.   She was struggling to pin a sheet onto a line, nearly hopping to reach it. The sheet fell from her hand and onto the muddy ground.  Miss Michaels looked tired and frustrated as she swept the back of her hand across her brow. His mouth quirked into a smile when he read her lips form the word “Damn” as she picked up the now sullied sheet.

Frederick knew approaching her again would not be wise but she did need help.  Wouldn’t it be wrong of him to ignore her when she was so clearly struggling?  He took a deep breath and proceeded towards her, internally hoping she would not scold him for coming back.  It was silly of him since she made it clear she did not like him but as Vicar Brown told him, “You can always catch more flies with honey rather than vinegar.”

“Miss Michaels? Please, let me help you.”

Katie immediately froze and tensed, to which he held up his hands and kept space from her. “I did not mean to startle you. I promise. I just saw you were unable to reach the clothesline. Allow me.” 

Katie said nothing and watched him as he picked up another sheet from her basket and carefully put it on the line.  He smiled gently as he picked up another.  Frederick hung about three sheets until Katie finally blurted out.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you being kind to me? What do you want?”

Frederick looked up and saw the young woman looked genuinely alarmed.

“I want nothing, Miss Michaels. Or not from you at least. I thought you needed assistance.”

Katie hung her head for a few minutes, wringing the front of her apron. 

“You are a strange sort of gentleman, Sir. What kind of man helps a maid for no reason?”

In spite of himself, Frederick chuckled. “I have been called many things in my lifetime but strange is a first, Miss Michaels.”

She knew she did herself no favors when her heart began to beat a little faster or felt her cheeks warm up.   Frederick hung up the last two sheets and tipped his hat to her.

“I must be going.  It was a pleasure to see you again.” 

He began to walk away, leaving behind a speechless Katie.  As Frederick made his way back onto the street, he couldn’t deny he felt a little disappointed that she did not say thank you or even smile at him. Pity but at least she did not scold him and she even spoke a little more to him.   _There is good in everything…where would you be if you could not find it?_

* * *

 

 

Upon walking into the office, Jaggers frowned deeply at him. Frederick felt nervous upon seeing his boss’s entirely displeased expression.  Oh dear, …he must have been late.

“Where were you?” Mr. Jaggers asked in a clipped voice.

Frederick paused, trying to think of what he could say. It would not be wise to lie but saying that he was helping a maid with her duties would sound ridiculous to him.

His silence was not a good sign as Jaggers repeated himself, a bit firmer and louder. 

“Sir, please, I-“

“You were late. You are late when one of your primary duties is to be on time!”

“I apologize unreservedly, Mr. Jaggers!  There was a woman…she needed help!”

Jaggers regarded him skeptically. “Excuse me?”

“I saw a woman in need of assistance. I thought it would be wrong of me to ignore her.” Frederick replied.  Not a lie but he obviously was not telling the full story.

Jaggers shook his head. “That is not your responsibility. Yours is to be in this office precisely at seven o’ clock.  I will have to speak to Mr. Tulkinghorn about this. I cannot have another episode of you being tardy again.”

Frederick flushed. “Sir, I promise it will not happen again! Truly, I did not intend to be late!”

Jaggers strode past him and marched towards Tulkinghorn’s office.  He knocked smartly on it.  Frederick scrambled after Jaggers.

“Sir, I beg of you, I am telling the truth. I can even tell you where I was! The lady…she can vouch for me!”  Frederick cried.

Jaggers held up a hand and frowned deeply at him. “Silence! I ask for you to come on time, then you must be on time! You are on probation and erring during this period will result in termination!”

Tulkinghorn called Jaggers in and the older man shut the door loudly behind him. Frederick buried his head in his hands. He was truly in trouble now.  

What had he done to anger Mr. Jaggers so? He had been professional, polite, and hardworking! Now he was about to be sacked for being maybe four minutes late!  He tried to control his breathing but the panic was suffocating him.  He could not go back to being without a home! He could not afford to lose a job but the injustice of the situation made his heart beat wildly in his chest. 

_You must forgive him, Frederick…forgive him as the Lord would want_ , he tried to tell himself.  His self-talk did nothing for him. This was not fair!  Would he get to tell Mr. Tulkinghorn his side of the story?  Would it even matter? Frederick was just a common, poor man off the street. Who would take his side in anything?   

Deep in his thought, he came back to the present jarringly when Mr. Jaggers re-emerged. His employer looked like a sullen child. He muttered to Frederick to get him the Wilshere case files and strode past him.  Frederick winced at how loudly the door slammed. What happened?  Nervously, he knocked on Mr. Tulkinghorn’s door and entered in as quietly as possible. God knows what Jaggers’s said to him!

Tulkinghorn, on the other hand, looked as if he could not be bothered by anything. He was generously spreading cream onto a heavenly smelling scone.  He looked up briefly and went back to spooning more cream.  Surely it would not even taste like a scone anymore! 

“I spoke to Mr. Jaggers and told him that you will be staying on.  Do better to not irritate him, will you? No easy feat but you seem like a smart sort.”  Tulkinghorn spoke before moving onto the jam.

“Yes. Thank you, Mr. Tulkinghorn.” Frederick answered meekly.  “Sir is it possible you can-“

“We can talk later but see to Mr. Jaggers and ask him what work he has for you.” 

The scone was clearly the more interesting subject and Frederick nodded as he left.  His stomach filled with dread at having to face Mr. Jaggers after he did not get his way in sacking him.  As he searched for the files, he began to feel angry again. It served Mr. Jaggers right! He didn’t do anything wrong and his employer had been prejudiced against him from the start!   

Frederick was not a confrontational sort but he would be damned if he was going to allow anyone to look down on him for being poor!  He didn’t ask for that life and he certainly did not want to be that way but he did the best with what he had.  Jaggers was just an old rich swot who did not want anyone to have what he did!  

He grabbed the files and stormed into Jaggers’s office without his usual knock.   Before Mr. Jaggers could open his mouth, Frederick abruptly dropped the papers on his desk.

“Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you?” Frederick demanded. 

Jaggers was shocked to see the normally cheerful and smiling Mr. Bernard, pink in the face and eyes flashing with anger. He was breathing hard as if he had been running for miles. 

“I do not hate-“

“Yes, you do! You are always annoyed with me but you do not say why!  I do my best and you still act as though I should not be here!  You have no idea what struggles I have endured improving my lot in life!  We cannot all be born into privilege and wealth as you-“

Jaggers raised his hand to stop the irate clerk.  “Steady on, Mr. Bernard. Please, have a seat.”  It was extraordinary to Jaggers, really.  He oddly liked Frederick Bernard raising his voice to him and directly confronting him.   It seemed the most genuine he had ever been.

Mr. Bernard regarded him with suspicion. “Why?”

Jaggers only nodded towards the seat and Frederick took a seat. “Mr. Bernard, I must confess that you are right. I did not like you when you first arrived. I felt that your character was insincere.”

Frederick frowned a bit at the man across from him “What did I do that was insincere?”

Fair question, Jaggers thought. “Young men your age are vain and lazy, in my experience.  I thought you were attempting to over-flatter me in hopes of having less work. I needed to be firm with you to have you understand that it would not be the case here.”  

Jaggers felt his explanation was a reasonable one.  It was truthful so it should be satisfactory for Mr. Bernard.  Except…it wasn’t.  Mr. Bernard looked him sternly in the eyes.

“You may be right, Sir. Young men my age can be lazy and vain but was there any evidence of that in my work?”

The solicitor blinked and straightened up over being challenged. Jaggers raised his voice a little.  “No…but I found your continual chatter and inquisitiveness to be grating and unbecoming!”

Mr. Bernard went quiet and did nothing for a few minutes before slowly nodding.  “I am sorry. I am sorry I disturbed you, Sir.  I only meant-“ he trailed off and scoffed softly at himself. Neither man said anything for a long while. The tense silence made Jaggers subtly fidget but he refused to back down. At last, Mr. Bernard spoke as he looked up from his lap. “Excuse me, I have work to do.” Jaggers felt intense guilt kick in when he saw the look of sadness and hurt in Mr. Bernard’s face.   The junior clerk got up and left, closing the door softly behind him.

Jaggers tried to busy with himself work but he was unable to focus.  The sad look in Mr. Bernard’s eyes ate at him.  The man looked genuinely hurt at what he said!  While Jaggers was not the most social of people, he certainly never set out to hurt anyone’s feelings or make them feel bad! 

The downtrodden expression on Mr.  Bernard reminded him far too much of the times when he had been excluded as a boy and then as an adult.  He, too, tried to be polite and friendly and it just seemed to drive people away.  Jaggers had been taught by his mother that this was the way to make friends but it never worked! 

Perhaps, Mr. Bernard learned these lessons in his youth as well. Just like him, perhaps he only wanted a friend.  

Admittedly, he felt a little embarrassed to go and seek out Mr. Bernard now.  The clerk probably hated him and would only respond to work-related things.   He shook himself out of his thoughts, deciding firmly that Mr. Bernard needed to grow up and behave as an adult. Not everyone had to like each other!

 

Later that afternoon, Jaggers decided it was time for lunch.  Without any food packed with him, he chose to go to the Three Cripples for a meat pie. It had been trying day and maybe a good meat pie would take his mind off of things. 

At the Three Cripples, he could see Mrs. Cratchit was madly scrambling to serve guests. He didn’t have to stay long for his pie. However, Mrs. Cratchit saw him and her face immediately became concerned. She waved him over and gestured to an empty seat at the bar area. 

“I will have your pies for you, Sir. Are you alright?”

“Of course!”

Mrs. Cratchit fixed him a stern look. “Sir…you may be a solicitor but you are a dreadful liar.”

In spite of himself, he smiled. “That is not true, Ma’am. You’re just very smart.”

“What is wrong?”

Jaggers sighed and told her the story about Mr. Bernard.  Mrs. Cratchit listened thoughtfully as Jaggers described his distrust and annoyance with his junior employee.

“Do you think I was wrong, Mrs. Cratchit?” Jaggers sighed.

“Sir…it is understandable since you are a man who enjoys his quiet time but I think you misjudged the lad too quickly.”

Jaggers slumped in his seat. “But I don’t think it is hopeless, Sir!  I think you and Mr. Bernard can still become friends!”

“Friends? He and I are very different people!”

“Is he a decent man? Is he responsible and honest?”

“Yes…he is those things, I am afraid,” Jaggers mumbled.

Mrs. Cratchit laughed aloud but added, “Do you think he would help you if you were ever in need?”

He shrugged at that.  Mrs. Cratchit nodded knowingly. “You won’t know until you let him try.  We all could use as many friends as we are allowed to have. Especially in times like these when good folk is hard to find.”

Jaggers gave a half smile. “Why would I need another friend when I have you, Mrs. Cratchit?”

She laughed again, “Go make it right with him, Sir. You never know…he could change your life in a grand way.”

Jaggers was mulled over her words for a few minutes.  “Mrs. Cratchit? If I could have three meat pies, please? Wrapped up?”

 

* * *

 

Frederick’s stomach was grumbling at this point.  He didn’t know how he forgot his bread and cheese. However, he did not have enough pocket money this week since he just paid his rent.  Oh well, he would just have to wait.   

His head perked up upon hearing knocking.  Mr. Jaggers carefully entered with a small wax bag in his hands.

“Have you had your lunch yet?”

Frederick blinked. Was Mr. Jaggers actually initiating a conversation with him? Also, the older man did not look hostile or annoyed?

“No, Sir.”

Jaggers gave a brief nod and took a seat across from Frederick. “Is there something you need me to do, Sir?”

“Have you ever been to the Three Cripples Pub?”

Frederick shook his head. Jaggers placed the wax bag onto the desk and lightly scooted it towards his clerk.

“You will not be able to stop eating their meat pies once you have tried them.”

Frederick couldn’t help himself. It was probably bad manners to tear the paper open but he was starving. Having not had breakfast or lunch made him forget all polite manners.  The pie smelled better than anything Frederick could even allow himself to think about!   He nearly bit into it before he somehow remembered that he was about to eat in front of his employer, whom he didn’t have the best relationship with.    Hastily, he put it down and murmured his thanks to Jaggers.

In spite of himself, Jaggers’ lips quirked into a small smile. “You are very welcome. I see you are hungry so I shall leave you to your lunch.  By the way, the second pie is yours.”

Just as Jaggers was about to leave the room, Frederick immediately got up to his feet.  “Sir, please wait.”

“Yes, Mr. Bernard?”

Frederick smiled politely, not as broadly as he usually did but he extended his hand forward. “Thank you, Mr. Jaggers. It was very kind of you to think of me.”

Jaggers nodded in acknowledgment and “You are very welcome and you need not call me Mr. Jaggers. Jaggers or Edward is acceptable.”  Inwardly, Jaggers kicked himself.  It seemed a bit like he was trying too hard but it seemed for friends to call one another “Mr.” all the time. 

“Then you may call me Frederick.”

Jaggers shook Frederick’s hand. “Finish your lunch and we will discuss the rest of the afternoon.”

 

 

Frederick left a bit later than he usually did but he was considerably happier than he had been in days.  Just this morning he thought he was going to be sacked and not only did he manage to keep his job but Mr. Jaggers (or Edward) actually behaved and spoke decently to him.  Admittedly, his employer still expected a great deal of work and to have it done as quickly as possible but Frederick did not mind in the slightest.  It felt good to be valued for his hard work but at least his boss was showing appreciation...especially in the form of those delicious meat pies!

As he trudged along home, Frederick noticed he was near that grand house where Miss Michaels worked.  He didn’t know why but it seemed like a very strange house to him. Not because the employer was so demanding that the maids not talk to anyone but he never saw anyone coming or going in it. A house of that size would normally have servants shuttling in and out but he only ever saw one maid.

Well, he doubted he would see the maid again.  If he did, he should just expect that she would run away or stare blankly at him.   Frederick wondered if she genuinely disliked him or if she had a truly unkind employer who forbade her from even looking in the direction of a stranger. 

Frederick walked past the back of the house and froze upon seeing Miss Michaels.   Now, she was trying to take the bedsheets down from the line. Much like earlier, she was hopping up to reach the sheets to pull them down.  He knew better this time and chose to keep walking but instead, he was interrupted.

“Excuse me? Mr. Bernard?”  
 

He turned to face Miss Michaels and swallowed a little. Miss Michaels’s hair was escaping under the cap and her forehead a bit shiny from the sweat…but he still thought she was the most beautiful girl had ever seen.   

“Miss Michaels, I do hope I did not get you into trouble with your employers this morning.”

Katie shook her head and asked if he could please help her with taking down the sheets.  Frederick agreed without a moment’s hesitation.   As Frederick pulled down the clothes, Katie shyly asked him questions ranging from how his day had gone to where he was from.  Frederick answered each question and reciprocated each one to her.  

 Once all the clothes had been folded neatly and placed in a basket, Frederick took his leave.  Before he could go, Miss Michaels stopped him again.

“Thank you for helping me this morning and again just now.”

“You are quite welcome but forgive me for asking this. I feel as though I may have caused you some discomfort and you seemed…well…less than willing to speak to me before.”

Katie flushed a little and looked down with embarrassment. 

“I apologize I did not want to-“

“No, you have the right to ask but my mistress does not like men.  I was afraid that she would sack me if she knew I spoke to you. I also thought a gentleman should not waste his time talking to a maid when he could be talking to a fine lady.”

Frederick wanted to take her hands in his and assure her this was entirely untrue.  Who could pass someone like Katie not lose their heart?   How could he ignore the riot of tight, coiled dark hair that never wanted to stay inside of its cap?  Katie had tawny, nearly golden skin…so different from women he saw nearly every day.  More than her hair or skin, how could Frederick not fall deep into those warm and intelligent brown eyes?  She stood out so vibrantly and yet somehow no one seemed to notice her beauty.

“I’m hardly a gentleman, Miss Michaels. Just a clerk and nothing more.” Frederick murmured. For years, he was ashamed of his low birth but now…it was the best thing to happen to him. _If she would have me, I am free to court her. No one can tell us no._

“Mr. Bernard-“

“Miss Michaels-“

They both stopped abruptly, softly and shyly giving one another permission to speak first.  In the end, Frederick spoke first.

“Miss Michaels, I know this is forward of me and certainly, you are not obligated to agree but may I call on you again? I would very much like to see-“

“Yes.” Katie rushed out before Frederick could finish speaking.  “But you must come very early or very late. My mistress will see and she may call the constable on you for intruding!”

Frederick nodded vigorously. He did not want to be the cause of Katie’s loss of employment.  It was hard enough for men of low birth to find suitable employment. However, young Black British women like herself would have even less chance of finding employment again once lost.  

“Perhaps…do you know of a place called Three Cripples Pub? It is not far from here and it is very busy around and inside of the establishment.  No one will notice us and you can tell your mistress you have gone to market?”

Katie bit her lip. She really did not want to lie to Miss Havisham. The poor lady had been through a great deal and it was so hard for her to trust anyone!  There was no law for Katie to not speak to this man and maybe…maybe Miss Havisham would be more understanding if Katie told her the truth?

Katie looked up, looking decidedly more confident than Frederick had ever seen her. “No, Mr. Bernard. I will speak to my employer. There is no need for us to hide or lie as though we are doing a bad thing.  Come back tomorrow and I will tell you what she says.”

“Do you wish for me to be with you when you speak to her? You mustn’t have to do this alone!”

Katie smiled, shaking her head. “She will shout if she sees you in her house!”

“Tell me what I can do. Surely there is something I can say or do to keep you from losing your position! I work for a very bright and successful lawyer! His name is Mr. Jaggers!“

“Just come back tomorrow.  When you are finished with work, come to the garden. I only want you to come back.” _Just as you have been before but this time I am not afraid._

Frederick gave her his signature bright smile, dimples prominently showing.  “I can do that, Miss Michaels. I will gladly come tomorrow.”

In his old books, it was quite easy for the knight to walk up to his maiden and kiss her hand or in other cases, on her lips.  He really would have liked to have done either one but something in him told him not to do this. He could frighten Miss Michaels and she would never want to see him again! This time, he would deserve her coolness.  

Instead, he tipped his hat and bowed his head, just as a proper gentleman should.  Katie did not follow him at first but as soon as he reached the gate, Katie was somehow right beside him.

 “Miss Michaels?”

Katie mumbled something a little unclear before she quickly pecked him on his cheek.  It was hard to say who was more surprised at her action.  Katie’s face felt like it was on fire. What possessed her to do that?! Katie would never have behaved so brazenly but the kiss was innocent and more than that, it felt honest and right.  Mr. Bernard had been so decent and kind to her that she wanted to show him what it meant. 

“Miss-“ Frederick breathed out, feeling deliciously dizzy.

“Katie. I want you to call me Katie.”

He barely nodded and asked her to call him Frederick.  At last, they parted after bidding one another good night.   Frederick replayed that moment in his mind over and over until realizing he walked all the way back to the office again.   Jaggers had dismissed him for the day long ago but remained back to work.  He was locking up when he saw Frederick outside, with an oddly strange and soft smile. 

“You returned? What brings you back here?” Jaggers inquired.

“A woman,” Frederick replied faintly, more to himself than to Jaggers.  

Now, it was certainly no business of Jaggers’s but he had to admit his curiosity.  His habit of knowing everything reared into full force and before he could remember his manners, he offered for Frederick to accompany him the Three Cripples for dinner.  After all, it was what friends did, was it not? 

 

* * *

 

 

Miss Havisham certainly had been taught it was wrong to spy on others or eavesdrop but she heard an unfamiliar voice in the garden. A man’s voice.  She peered out from the study window and saw Katie talking to a tall man. He was helping her take down clothes from the line in the garden from behind the house.  He was a handsome, yes, but looked too young. No maturity in his face but naturally, a young woman like Katie would find him charming.  Amelia could see Katie speaking rather passionately but there was no smile on her face. The maid was emphatically using her hands as she gestured towards the house.  Miss Havisham cracked the window to hear what was being said. 

She frowned deeply upon hearing the young man arrange for him and Katie to meet at some pub. Good Lord! What kind of lady would be caught there?!  Was he foolish enough to think that the maid of a lady would frequent such a low establishment?

However, her heart warmed when she heard Katie insist upon talking to her first. At least her Katie would not lie or try to deceive her!  Amelia watched them both talk a bit more before he went to the gate.  Her jaw dropped as she gasped a little when she saw Katie his cheek.  What on earth was Katie thinking to do that?!  How long had she known this man for? Who was he to begin with? 

 

Amelia’s head perked up when she heard the door to the kitchen open and close.  She rang her bell a little harder than necessary.  Katie entered, a small and secret smile dancing upon her lips and in her eyes.  Amelia wanted to shout at Katie for being so foolish or bombard her with questions about the man in the garden.

It was hard for Amelia to admit and it would be a thought she would carry to the grave but she secretly still enjoyed the idea of romance. Late at night, Amelia would read old romances by her gas lamp.  It seemed wildly hypocritical of her to still enjoy these books but they reminded her of her young carefree days.  How she wished for a Darcy or even a Colonel Brandon! They were good men, despite their imperfections and moreover, they were madly in love with their ladies.

 Compeyson could have been a hero in an Austen book. Complicated and a little mysterious but he made her feel like she was irresistible. Despite his misgivings, she was enough to win him over and convince him to come back again and again.  Enough for him to love and as he once said, “I am drowning in you”.   

Amelia would also be lying (but would never admit it) if she didn’t confess to missing physical affection. Her parents had doted her with hugs, kisses, holding her hand, touching her hair, or even stroking her cheek. She had been so starved for those things after their deaths.  With Meriwether, she obviously got a very different kind of physical affection but she had enjoyed it immensely. She even missed the quiet moments where she rested her head on his lap, held his hand between hers, or when he whispered something sweet in her ear, his lips brushing against the skin.   

As much as she wanted to protect Katie from this stranger, she could hardly fault the girl for getting caught up in romantic feelings.  

“Who was that man?” Amelia asked, hoping she did not sound confrontational. Katie could lie if she sounded like an angry mother.  She needed to take a sisterly approach.

Katie looked shocked at first but recovered her expression. She did not answer right away and seemed to be caught in some internal conflict. 

“I am not angry, Katie. Who is he?” Amelia repeated.

Katie sighed. Might as well start talking. “His name is Frederick Bernard. He is a legal clerk.”

Amelia prompted her with her hand for more detail but Katie said something a bit unexpected. “He wants to see me again, Ma’am. I want to see him too. I told him that I would speak to you first.”

It took Amelia aback to hear Katie speak in such a strong and decisive voice. Normally, the girl sounded so soft and timid but her voice was even and clear.  “He is a good man, Miss. I know you do not believe that good men exist but he is kind to me and he-“ Katie trailed off, unsure how to explain her feelings to Miss Havisham.

“What does he do?”

“I do not feel like I am just a maid when he is there.”

“Well, of course, you are not just a maid, Katie! You’re much more important to me than that!” Amelia argued. “Surely our friendship is adequate enough for you!”

Katie hung her head, “You could sack me if you were angry with me, Ma’am.”

This caused Amelia to pause.  She would never but to be fair, Katie had a point.  Amelia could very well have Katie removed and once held that power over her for months. Had she not befriended her maid, she would have dismissed her for even the smallest infraction. It didn’t help that Katie saw many of her colleagues sent away for their misdeeds.  At the end of the day, Amelia was still Katie’s employer and the girl could not be on equal footing with her. 

“What if I relieved you of your duties? What if you were not my maid anymore but my friend?” Amelia tried.

“Ma’am, I like my job. I Iike helping you. I do not want to leave this house to work for a mistress who doesn’t even know my name.  I am only asking if I can see Mr. Bernard again. Nothing else will change. I will remain your maid and we can still answer E’s letters together. I am not leaving you, Miss.”

Amelia couldn’t help herself and began to weep a little. What was wrong with her? She was fine only a few moments ago and now she was turning into a quivering and sobbing mess.  Katie immediately came to her side and held her mistress close.

“There, there, Ma’am.  You mustn’t cry.  I know you do not like being lied to or tricked so I told him I wanted to tell you the truth. “

“Am I going to be alone forever, Katie?”

“You do not have to be, Ma’am! You could meet your old friends again! Maybe you can write a letter to Lady Dedlock or perhaps you can write to one of your cousins?”

Amelia shook her head, “Not to the Pockets. Not ever to the Pockets!”

“What of Lady Dedlock then?”

Amelia shrugged sadly, “She is married with her own life now. A husband and perhaps children.”

“You won’t know if you do not write to her.”  Katie supplied. 

“I do not know how I can find her again.”

“Did you have a mutual friend or acquaintance between the two of you? Perhaps he or she would know?”

Amelia thought hard for a second. She could ask Mr. Barbary or Francis but for some reason, she felt unsure about this. Francis was too much of a gossip and it bothered her to know that Francis could be passing unnecessary judgment.  It was already difficult enough to write to Honoria after months of silence.  Who knew what Honoria would do or say? At least they had a history of friendship and the Honoria she remembered was much more compassionate than her sister.

Who could she ask that would know Honoria and her husband? It would have to be someone discreet and trustworthy…

“Mr. Jaggers.  He would know where Honor-I mean, Lady Dedlock can be reached.”

“That’s it, Ma’am! Maybe you can write to Mr. Jaggers and he can help you!”

Amelia nodded, a bit more certain.  “Right then. I should get on with that letter. Can you send it off first thing?”

“Yes, Ma’am! Mr. Bernard is Mr. Jaggers’ new clerk. I can ask him to deliver your note.”

Amelia nodded, not really paying attention to what Katie said.   She began rifling through her desk and pulling out a sheet of paper.  Katie lingered for a moment before leaving, smiling to herself again.

 

Amelia took a deep breath. It suddenly occurred to her Jaggers was one of the people in the dining room on her wedding day. He was the first person she was contacting who saw everything on that day.  She almost wanted to back out of this. Jaggers was the least likely to judge her about anything but it was impossible to tell what this man was thinking. _Why should you care, Amelia? You’re a Havisham! He works for you!_

_But he was there…he saw you at your lowest…._

Amelia took a deep breath and shook her head. All she had to do was write a letter requesting an address. She would not have to talk to him again if she did not wish to but deep down, she wanted to write to someone familiar.  Unlike E, she actually knew the identity of Mr. Jaggers.  Reliable and professional Mr. Jaggers, she mused.  

 

_Dear Mr. Jaggers,_

 


	9. Chapter 9

It was rather late before both men went to their homes after dinner from the Three Cripples.  Jaggers silently closed his door behind him, trying not to disturb Mr. and Mrs. Francis.   He shuffled through his mail and to his delight, a letter from Miss Havisham sat in the pile.  Unfortunately, there was also a letter from James.  His previous good humor dissolved upon seeing James’s letter.   With an irritable sigh, he ripped it open.  He scanned the letter and instantly had to reread the letter. 

James decided to leave Italy and return to England. He would be returning a week from the date of the letter, meaning he would return two days from today.   Jaggers had to sit down from the news.  James was returning to London.  It was impossible to forget the circumstances of his departure!

_Henrietta wept for hours in her room, holding the damning letter in her hand.  William paced back and forth, muttering this was all temporary insanity._

_“Mother?”_

_“Do you know what he has done?! DID YOU KNOW ABOUT THIS?!” his mother shrieked, waving the letter wildly in her hand._

_“Know what? I have not heard from James in weeks! What happened?” asked Edward as he sat beside his mother on the bed. He took the letter from her hand and read through it. He paled instantly when he read James had no desire to return to England or finish his studies.  It disgusted him to read the way James disparaged the legal profession. If Edward was being frank, the law held little interest to him as well but it was this so-called dishonest and soulless work that led to their comfortable and pleasant lives. Who was James to spit on their father’s countless hours of hard work and time when he enjoyed the fruits of his labor?_

_“What shall happen now?” Edward asked, looking at his father._

_“What will happen? What will happen is I shall bring him back myself! The lad has simply lost his way and I shall help him find it!”_

_Well, that settles that, Edward thought.  James was surely in trouble now. It was remarkable to him how James had never been one to get in trouble with their father. James was the Golden Son who could never be punished for his transgressions! It would take years for Edward to finish describing all the times when James’s antics or outspokenness was simply laughed off by his father.  If he or Michael ever behaved like this, they would be dead and buried!_

_William set out for Italy the next day.  Weeks went by and very little word from him regarding the status of persuading James to come home.  Henrietta lost weight, wept herself into having severe headaches, and hardly left her room.  Edward kept the household afloat by assuming the household responsibilities and overseeing the staff.   At last, his father returned. William looked embattled and disappointed.  The younger Jaggers never thought he would live to see the day when his father looked let down by James._

_Later that night, James overheard his father speaking to his mother.  Jaggers felt his heart sink when he heard the way his father’s voice cracked._

_“I should have done better with the boy. I have failed as a father. I thought his outspokenness would have been useful someday! I thought his brashness could be tempered once he learned to choose his battles in court! He had so much potential and I ruined him by indulging him!”_

_Edward couldn’t hear what his mother said.  His father spoke again but he sounded tearful. A sound Edward would never associate with his father. “Which son of mine could carry on for me after I am gone? Did any of our children learn anything from me? Did I fail all three of them? Am I truly a bad father?”_

_Edward went back to his room but could not fall asleep. He kept hearing his father’s words and for the first time ever, he felt sad for him.  For years, Edward felt at odds with his father. He never felt as though he could be enough for him or he was invisible when James was there.  Hearing his father express his worry and disappointment in himself was the most human he ever had been._

_The mood in their household did not change. Both his parents were defeated and heartbroken.  Edward could not idly watch their grief any longer. He had to take action. There was something he had to do to make things better for his parents._

_One morning, over breakfast, Edward asked his father about his first trial.  William paused from his reading of the newspaper and looked at Edward like he was seeing him for the first time._

_“My first trial? Oh, it was very long ago but…I suppose I could tell you about it. Why do you ask?”_

_“Perhaps if you told me about some of the lessons you learned when you first became a solicitor, I can apply that to my education. When I begin my law career, I will know what to do and what to avoid.”_

_William blinked, trying not to shout with joy or cry with relief. “My boy…of course I can tell you about that!”_

_It was a bit disappointing to Edward to let go of his own dreams of becoming a provost but perhaps it was worth it, in the end, to see his parents happy again.  After all, nothing quite compared to his father introducing him to others as “his responsible son, the one that takes after me in the law.”_

Jaggers, of course, loved that his father was proud of him now but couldn’t he have done it with another profession? He doubted it but it was all much too late now to change his career path now.

_Well, James is coming and I suppose the wise thing to do is let him stay here._  Jaggers would rather James not take up residence here but it was not worth it for his mother to become distressed and his father enraged.  For a little while, James could stay but after two weeks, Jaggers would insist James either go back to their family home or find a flat for himself.  Hopefully, James would sort himself by then. 

 

Now, onto the more interesting letter. The letter he actually wanted to read.

_Dear E,_

_I must confess something you may not be pleased to read. For some reason, I found it rather amusing when I read of your distaste regarding your new employee. Though I do not recall our acquaintance, something tells me that you are the sort who values privacy and silence.  I, too, appreciate the stillness of it and the ability to hear my own thoughts. Katie was (and still is) chatters a great deal and in the beginning, I found it distasteful.  After a time, I now find her speech comforting and it is unsettling when the house is too silent.  However, she has also learned when I desire my quiet time.  Perhaps your young employee will learn the same._  
  
I also enjoyed your list of preferred activities and disliked pastimes.  Since you wrote a detailed list for me, I will give you one too.  You will find there are similar interests.

_ Things I Enjoy _

_Reading_

_Dancing_

_Going to the Park_

_The Seaside_

_Painting_

_Concerts_

_Riddles and Puzzles_

_Horseback Riding_

_Languages_

_Theater_

_Ballet_

_Ancient Histories_

__Things I Do Not Enjoy  
  
Hunting 

_Cards_

_Long carriage rides_

_Birds (terribly shrill)_

_Boring conversation_

_Overly entitled gentleman and ladies_

_Corsets that are much too tight_

_Cold weather_

_Hearing people sniffle or cough_

_Being underestimated_

_I am sure there are many other things I do not enjoy but I cannot seem to think of them now. To be truthful, I feel the beginning of a headache.  I have worked myself into a great fret over the past few days.  I will have to contact my former solicitor if he has any knowledge regarding the whereabouts of a childhood friend of mine. I am unsure if it is a wise endeavor but Katie insists that finding old friends would soothe my battered mind and heart from loneliness. My solicitor is a decent fellow, I know he is reliable and will not inquire unnecessarily as to what I am doing._

_It is a strange business I am about to embark on. I only hope I am not making a grave error._

_I wish you luck with your employee. I hope the two of you will become good friends.  It is impossible to go through this bleak and terrible world without one._  
  
Yours,   
  
Amelia Havisham

Jaggers reread the part of the letter when Miss Havisham indicated that she was going to reach out to her former solicitor.  Never before had he felt so conflicted.  Half of his mind was delighted Miss Havisham wanted to speak to him! As Jaggers! Well, it sounded foolish to him but when wrote to her as “E” it was still him but a side of him she didn’t know and therefore, a different person. Jaggers was the man she was familiar with.   On the other hand, he was terrified out of his wits. What would she say to him? More importantly, what would he say to her?

One thing was for certain, however.  She could not know that he was “E”. Never. He could only imagine the rage she’d fix upon him for not telling her the truth.  Yes, he was deceiving her but only with the best of intentions! Jaggers doubted she would understand his motives, much less forgive him. No…best to keep it a secret still. 

* * *

 

The next morning, Jaggers arrived in the office. Frederick was already there.  He said good morning to his employer and handed him the letter. 

“A letter has arrived. From a Miss Havisham?” Frederick announced.  Jaggers nodded and instructed Frederick to read it aloud. 

_Dear Mr. Jaggers,_

_I hope you have been well. I apologize for the long delay in communication.   I am sure you must be curious to know why I am writing to you after many months.  I require some discretion and information. I know no other who can assist me in this manner._

_I wish to know the address of Lady Dedlock, the former Honoria Barbary. I understand she has recently wed now resides in Chesney Wold.  I ask for your discretion in this matter since I only wish to contact her. I do not want it to be understood that I am receiving visitors or that I wish to reacquaint myself with society._

_I would be much obliged for a prompt response._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Havisham_

 

Jaggers was able to keep his expression under control but he felt oddly excited again.  He slept little last night, thinking about how Miss Havisham intended on writing to him.  Jaggers knew any future correspondence could be done through letters, just as they always had. However…he wanted something else. A burning curiosity filled him from the pit of his stomach. What was Miss Havisham really like now?  When he read her letters, he imagined her as the way he best remembered. 

_She would be dressed in fine fabrics, well-tailored and expensive. Her hair would be impeccably arranged, not a strand out of place. Though slender, Miss Havisham had a sturdiness about her.  Her skin was clear, her teeth neat and straight.  Miss Havisham was always well groomed and respectable at all times.  Though her posture was upright and proper, her expression was one that looked curious about her surroundings. He could see her, at times, observing things quietly. She held her head in place but her gaze would flit through the room.  She was always very curious, making it a point to ask a question about anything that stood out of place.  Jaggers would probably mind if it were anyone else. He would have sharply asked why they were so curious but it always seemed well-intentioned when it came from Miss Havisham._

Jaggers pondered if it was possible to request an in-person meeting.  Realistically, the answer was no but she had put forth the request for information. He could come up with an excuse…he could say he found some property document and he required a signature. A trifling matter but it was worth an attempt.

 

“Excuse me, Frederick? Could you write something for me and drop a letter to Satis House?”

 

 

Katie struggled to hide her smile as she proceeded up the stairs to Miss Havisham’s bedroom.  Frederick had returned, just as he said he would. Well, earlier than she expected and not entirely just to see her but she would take it anyway.  She couldn’t stop her face from burning when he told her she looked lovely.   Frederick told her he had to return to work but he looked forward to coming back and spending more time with her.

_“If it is possible, would your mistress allow you to have Saturday afternoon available? I should like to take you to the park if that suits.”_

Katie stammered out that she would have to ask Miss Havisham for permission but thanked him just the same.  She had to wonder if his face warmed the same ways hers did when she said she would like to see him again too.   

Now, she had to remember her head and return to her duties. She didn’t want to get into trouble with either Mrs. Dawkins or Miss Havisham for “not being in the present” or be bombarded with a hundred questions about the “young fellow”. 

“Miss? You received a letter from Mr. Jaggers and another from E.” Katie announced as she handed the letter to Miss Havisham.

Amelia looked up from the book she was reading and took the letter from Mr. Jaggers first. 

“ _Dear Miss Havisham,_

_I must confess it is a surprise but a welcome one to read your correspondence.  I hope you have been well._

_Per your request, I do have the address of Lord and Lady Dedlock. I am sure the Lady would be pleased to receive a correspondence from you. I remember your friendship with her well and it would be a shame for it to dissolve due to distance and time._  
  
Your trust in me is not misplaced and I assure you that I shall not discuss your correspondence with myself or Lady Dedlock with anyone. I have also requested the same regard to your privacy from my clerk who will be delivering the letter.   I do not have the habit of discussing my clients’ affairs or actions with anyone uninvolved.

_You only need to address your letter to Dedlock Manor, Chesney Wold, Lincolnshire, England._

_As I was searching for the address, I happened upon a legal document regarding a property in Hunsford. I believe it belonged to your mother, Mrs. Havisham.  As I read through the deed, I saw that it was bequeathed to you upon turning three and twenty.  You must forgive my error in not having you sign your acknowledgment of the deed upon that time. In order to ensure your property does not fall into the hands of relatives or seized by a greedy land-owner, I will require your signature._

_I understand you are not wishing to see any visitors at this time and I respect your wishes.  However, would you be averse to making an exception in this one instance or would you prefer to come to my office?  I am perfectly fine to accommodate either preference._  
  
Until your response,

_Mr.  Jaggers, Esq._

Amelia reread the letter multiple times, especially the paragraph regarding a possible visit.  She was hit hard by a wave of terror.  Jaggers wanted to see her?! Unfortunately, it sounded like a serious matter and not one that she could ignore.  Ordinarily, she would have told him to send her the document and she would sign it, and send it back. However, since this regarded a property, Jaggers would have to watch her sign it and then acknowledge that she, herself, signed the document with his official seal.

_Damn,_ she thought.  _Damn, damn, damn_.   It was a mistake. The whole bloody business was a mistake! She should never have written to him! She should never have asked for that blasted address. She should never have desired to reach out to a friend! She should never have done anything!

“Miss? Are you alright?” Katie’s soothing voice cut into her thoughts.

“He wants to come…he wants to come here.” Amelia choked out.

Now it was Katie’s turn to freeze.  She recovered quickly. It would not do for the both of them to be shocked. One of them had to remain calm and reasonable. “What for, Ma’am?”

“A property…something that belong to Mother. Here, read it.” Amelia muttered, more to herself than to Katie.  She thrust the letter to her maid.  Amelia began twisting one of the extremely wilted bows on the wedding dress.   She watched Katie like a hawk as the maid read the letter.

“I think you will have to see him, Miss.  I think the Pockets will try to take it away from you if it is left alone for too long.”

“But he will be in this house! He will-‘ Amelia trailed off.

It was a strange thing to say aloud but she now felt embarrassed about her appearance.  Her starved, wild appearance in this threadbare gown had been part of her penance but now someone was going to see her in her punished state.  Not only that, she had never been less than put together in previous meetings with Jaggers.

Amelia knew, as a woman, her intelligence, confidence, and assertiveness would never be taken seriously by a man.  Her dress and manners were the keys to unlocking the front door, so to speak.  Whenever she had meetings with the lawyer or with shareholders, Amelia dressed well and wore her hair in a practical style.  She was careful not to wear too many accessories lest she be perceived as vain nor were her gowns very extravagant. They were well-made and the fabrics were of the finest material and quality but never garnished with embroidery or lace.  Bright and ostentatious clothing never worked either. Everything dark and somber. Once she proved her “seriousness and practicality”, she could shine and prove her worth.

She knew she looked like a madwoman.  Her matted, tangled hair and gaunt frame made her look no more like a common street beggar.  Amelia’s eyes appeared much too large face. Her lips were cracked and pale. The dark circles made her look every bit like the ghost she felt she was. 

Now…someone was going to see her. Someone who was unaccustomed to seeing her in this state would surely be frightened! The incessant questions would follow, the unwarranted advice and worst of all the gossip.  People had so little to do with their time that news regarding the misfortune of others delighted them. She didn’t think Mr. Jaggers was that sort (far too practical and nose deep in legal papers) but surely her appearance would be so off-putting he would say it to someone!

“What do you think you will do, Ma’am?”

“I-I don’t know. What should I do?”

Katie’s previous good humor from seeing Frederick dissolved upon hearing her mistress’s pitifully small voice.  Though Miss Havisham was at least ten years older than her, she seemed like she was ten years younger.  

“I do not think I can make that choice for you,” Katie replied gently.

“Tell me! What would you do if you were me?”

Katie thought for a moment. “I would see him, Ma’am.  I do not think he will tell anyone he came to visit.”

Amelia shook her head vehemently. “But he’ll see me! He’ll see-“ she trailed off again.  Katie noticed how incomplete her mistress’s speech would become when she was distressed. She could not finish her sentences or would start to stammer.  Katie imagined that Miss Havisham would finish the conversation in her mind with herself. 

“We have time to do something about it, Miss! I can trim your hair, run a hot bath, find your old dresses!

Amelia looked like a frightened kitten. “B-but I can’t!”

“What do you mean, Ma’am?”

“I cannot take this gown off, Katie!”

Katie knelt beside Miss Havisham.  “Can I ask you something, Ma’am?”

Amelia nodded.  Katie picked up her the older woman’s hand and squeezed it.  “Do you want to take off the gown or you cannot take it off?”

Miss Havisham shrugged and said nothing for a few moments. “I do not know.”

“Why do you wear it?”

“Because I have to. To remind myself of my mistakes.”

Katie nodded sagely.  “Does it help you? Remembering what you did wrong?”

Amelia looked at her pitifully, “I know not to do it again.”

“Do you think you would still make the same mistakes if you wore a different gown?”

Now, she fixed Katie with a sharp look. “I am not a child, Katie. I know perfectly well the answer is no but it is just the feeling I get from the gown.”

Katie nodded slowly.  Neither woman spoke for a few moments.

“I think I will have to think about this.”

“Of course, Ma’am! You need not make a decision today. Here, you even have a letter from E!”

Amelia took the letter from Katie. Katie wisely excused herself and stepped out of the room to allow Amelia some privacy.

 

_Dear Miss Havisham,_

_I am afraid my letter shall have to be brief today for I have received some rather strange news._

_I know I have not discussed my family life with you in the letters but I am genuinely seeking your sage advice as you are wont to give._

_I have an older brother who has proven to be a source of great disappointment to my parents.  My father, especially, had high hopes for him in that he would follow in his footsteps.  My older brother, named James, was always the favorite between myself and my younger brother.  Everything I am, James is not._

_For one thing, James is bold, forceful, confident, and charming. I am none of those things. James is also an avid sportsman and exceptionally popular among young men and ladies alike. Again, I am none of these things.   In our youth, there was intense rivalry between myself and James.   It was clear that my father preferred him to me and for that, I have never quite felt an appropriate brotherly bond toward him._

_Several years ago, James went on holiday to Italy. He seemed to like their carefree and bohemian ways far too much and immediately announced he would not be returning to England to complete his studies nor would he pursue our father’s profession.  His denouncement of our father and mother came as a great shock and resulted in our mother’s intense grief and subsequent illness._   _Our father attempted to bring him home but James did not agree to any such terms my father may have laid for him._  
  
James has no gainful employment nor does he intend on attaining an occupation.  For this reason, he chooses to write to me with monthly requests for money. I know cutting him off would lead to more trouble than it is worth and of course, my mother would be devastated to know that I have turned so vehemently against my own kin.  I have been providing him with funds and for the most part, he does not trouble myself or my parents.   
  
He wrote a letter to me recently saying he wishes to return to England and desires to stay with me.  On one hand, he has no other place to stay so it would be wise if he resides with me for a brief time. I am unsure if my mother and father would allow him into the house for now.  I also do not think he should go to my brother’s parish since he would likely frighten away the congregants and my younger brother (his name is Michael) would insist he stay with me.

_  
On the other hand, I do not want him in my home.  He will be rude to my housekeeper and manservant.  He has a poor habit of smoking and my home and clothing will reek of tobacco.  James will also come and go at late hours of the night, disturbing the household and causing nosy neighbors to gossip._

_These reasons seem arbitrary and I daresay, foolish but I suppose the truth is that I have never truly liked James and he has never really liked me.  It is shameful for me to admit that I do not feel the appropriate familial bonds to him. I know it is childish but I cannot stop remembering the ways he once tormented me as a young boy.  To this day, he still holds a maddening sense of superiority and still treats me as no more than a bank account._

_Is it strange that I help him though I do so with a strong sense of resentment? I get nothing from helping him, not even the sense of satisfaction of doing a good deed.  I wonder if I do this to prove to my parents that I was the responsible son whereas James is not and their preference had been misplaced all these years._  
  
Forgive me, I am being entirely foolish.  This truly is not something you must concern yourself with. I find that I have few to confide these feelings in but it is not your responsibility to act as my emotional receptacle.  

_Though, I must ask you, what do you in the face of a difficult choice? Do you take the advice of others or do you write lists of positives and negatives? Do you simply allow your instincts to guide your decisions? I feel as though I must choose the latter option in my personal situation but perhaps you may enlighten me in a manner of thinking I do not possess._  
  
I hope you are well as always. Do not hesitate to ask for any assistance from me.

_Your Friend,_

_E_  
  
PS

_My young employee no longer annoys me. I daresay the fellow is not at all the villain I made him sound in my previous letters.  Rather, he is a decent fellow with good taste in literature. Rare to find those sorts._   


The letter made Amelia smile genuinely the first time that day.  Though it was unfortunate that E was having a familial dilemma, it made her feel useful that she was being consulted for advice.  She remembered when she used to be asked her opinion on personal and professional matters by her family and friends. It made her feel practical and intelligent. 

_Hardly the way you were acting before. You were asking a seventeen-year-old girl to guide you along like a small child with her nanny! Shame on you, Havisham! You know better! Be the woman who E thinks you are. He consults with you on a serious matter because you are an adult with life experience! Act like it, for heaven’s sake!_

 

She would have to answer E’s letter after the meeting with Jaggers.  She picked up her bell and rang for Katie.  There was a great deal of work to be done.

 

* * *

 

Amelia opted to wear her own clothing from before her wedding.  It took time but Mrs. Dawkins and Katie were able to clean and mend a day dress of hers. It was a royal blue afternoon dress with black pin strips made from silk taffeta.  It hung loosely on her but Katie was able to cleverly pin it in a way that did not make her look as though she were drowning in it.  Despite her best efforts, it hung very loosely on her.

 After several hours of arguing with herself, Amelia finally took off the wedding dress and stepped into the tub.  This time, she would not be donning it again after her bath.  Katie took her mind off of it by singing to her as she carefully scrubbed her back and shoulders.  

Katie advised Amelia to close her eyes as she began cutting her hair.  Amelia’s nails dug so tightly into her palms when she balled her hands into fists.  She had to breathe in and out slowly as she felt the blades clip her overgrown locks.   Amelia didn’t know how much time had passed before Katie announced quietly she was done.  

Amelia blinked in surprise when she saw her hair.  Her hair used to be so long, nearly past her knees. Before then, her hair was only a little shorter by being up to the middle of her thighs.   However, Katie cut the hair up to the top of her chest.  She was not used to her hair being so…short but it felt magnificently freeing. A great weight had been lifted off of her head and neck.  Her hair had looked so lifeless before but the shorter cut made it look fuller and somehow softer. 

“What do you think, Ma’am?”

Amelia’s face warmed considerably and she couldn’t fight the smile from growing on her lips.  Katie chuckled and patted Amelia’s shoulder.  “There is still plenty of hair to put up. It’ll be lovely.”

 

 

It was decided that Mr. Jaggers would come to Satis House on Friday at two o’clock.  Katie and Mrs. Dawkins worked tirelessly two days before to clean all the dust in the rooms and remove the boards from the rooms.

They were strange requests from Miss Havisham to make such preparations for the lawyer.  However, Amelia knew she needed to do this. She may look sickly but she refused to allow anyone to say that she had completely crumbled.  It would be as if to say, “There is nothing to snicker, giggle, or gossip about. Everything is business as usual.”

When Amelia finally arrived downstairs to sit in her parlor, she drew in a breath.  The room took her back to a happier time in her life.  So many times had she received visitors and friends, enjoying tea, discussing news or stories of interest, or playing some sort of game.  Granted, she would not be doing those things with Mr. Jaggers (the idea of him playing a parlor game was laughable) but it somehow felt good that after nearly a year, she was finally entertaining again.  It was something she had been praised for continually and a skill she took great pride in. 

As Amelia sat alone in the room, she began to wonder if the last ten months had been a great error.  She justified the house and the wedding dress as battle armor and a fortress but now, she felt ten times more powerful and prepared in her day dress and her home is ready for visitors.  Like Compeyson didn’t even register to her any longer. He was the one who was probably begging for scraps by now and she was still in her grand home, entertaining visitors. 

Her father would have been proud.

“Miss?” Katie’s voice cut in.

Amelia jolted sharply.  Katie murmured Mr. Jaggers had arrived. Panic seized her immediately but she could have sworn she heard her father’s voice saying, _“Steady on, Mellie. You’ve come so far.”_

She drew herself up tall and took a deep breath. “Please, show him in. “

 

 

Jaggers’s heart was pounding hard as he cleared the threshold of the house.  To his surprise, the house seemed normal.  No dusty cobwebs, the furniture gleaming with polish, and it smelled of fresh flowers.  _How odd…_

The windows were normally boarded up but as he entered, he saw they were open and clean too.  Jaggers had many questions but it would have to wait.  He waited for the maid, Katie, to announce him.  The girl told him with a smile he was welcome to come in. _Steady on, old boy. Everything will be alright._

His breath caught when he saw Miss Havisham. Dear God, he thought…what happened to her?  She looked as though she had been starved for months!  Had she gone on some sort of hunger strike? 

However, Jaggers did not show his initial shock.  He smoothly covered it by inclining his head down and saying hello.  Despite her thin and wasting frame, he had to commend her for looking calm and collected. Very opposite of when he last saw her. 

“Miss Havisham, it is a pleasure to see you again.” 

She nodded her head. “Thank you.  It has been some time, yes? Please, sit down.”

They were seated across from each other. Neither of them spoke for a few moments.  For some reason, it was comforting to Amelia that Jaggers looked exactly the same.  His mouth was still fixed in a stern line but his eyes were forever curious.  He wore his hair exactly the same way as he always had.  She would never admit it aloud but she always liked his hair.  It always looked remarkably soft.  However, seeing him just he always had been made her feel like the world had not completely moved on without her.  Nearly everything was exactly like she left it. 

_Reliable and trustworthy Mr. Jaggers_

However, she did notice his obvious attempts to not stare or look shocked. He was busily pulling out papers but she could tell by his body language and inability to look at her that he clearly was trying to not be rude.  She smiled inwardly. A lesser man would have gawked openly.

“You have questions, I warrant.” Amelia began without preamble.

Jaggers looked up. His spectacles in one hand and papers in the other. The flicker of surprise crossed his face.  “What?”

“Go on, ask what you wish to.  I imagine no business will be completed until you ask what you want to.” Amelia replied dryly.

Jaggers was stuck now.  Of course he had a million questions! But how to ask without coming off as an old gossipy hen? _Be a gentleman. Ask about her wellbeing._

Before he could ask, Amelia spoke again. “Do you think I look well?”

Oh. A test. Jaggers looked uncomfortable when the lady fixed him with a long and unyielding stare.  _Be honest, old boy. Be polite but do not lie._

Jaggers sighed. “I must be frank. Your appearance has caused me concern but I am not here to discuss that with you. I know your time is valuable so we can-“

Amelia held up a hand. “What sort of concern?”

“Miss Havisham-“

“No. I know you want to ask me questions that have nothing to do with this property deed.  No point in pretending you do not and you are only here for professional reasons.”

Jaggers put his items down and steepled his hands. “It is not about what I want, Miss Havisham. I am here in service to you. If you do not wish to discuss your personal affairs with me, you are under no obligation to do so. I can assure you, however, that what we discuss here will not leave this house. Trust me.”

_Trust me_. Those words made her freeze.  Could she? She had to remember no one was safe. No one would...

But then he also asked gently, “How would you like to proceed? What do you want?”

Amelia bit her lip and swallowed hard.  Why were these words affecting her so much? He had said them before so many times but it felt different. No one had asked her that on her horrid wedding day.  Those words were like a key from the self-imposed prison she put herself in. She could walk out now and move on.  The last few days were signs that this punishment was over. From Jaggers’s first letter, taking off the wedding dress, cleaning the house, and now it was staring her right in the face.

“I actually have some questions for you, Sir.”

 

What should have been a twenty-minute meeting turned into three hours.  Amelia asked questions about everything that had gone on over the last ten months.  Jaggers gave generous and detailed answers.  Amelia was absolutely floored when Jaggers described the situation regarding Honoria and her marriage to Sir Leicester.   The clock struck five o’ clock when Jaggers suddenly realized he should have been back at the office hours ago.  He, too, had not realized where the time had gone.  Even before Amelia’s attempted wedding, it was not uncommon for them to have long meetings in which little work was actually completed and the majority of it was talking about everything and nothing. 

“We can have supper in this room. Let me call-“ Amelia began but Jaggers had to interrupt.  “Forgive me, Miss Havisham. I must go. I have been entirely remiss in my duties and should have been in my office some time ago.”

“Oh! Why didn’t you say anything? I would have understood you were in visiting during a work day!”

Jaggers waved his hand and made a dismissive sound.  Amelia began again. “Really, Mr. Jaggers! We could have very easily done this after your work day! Your workday should not have been disrupted by my incessant questioning.”

“I did not mind it. I am glad you invited me to your home.  Is there anything I can do for you before I go?

Amelia shook her head at first.  She followed Jaggers out of the parlor and to the door.  “Mr. Jaggers! Wait a moment!”

He raised an eyebrow in expectation. Amelia motioned with her head to the property deed in his hand. “I’ve not signed it yet.”

Jaggers couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at the silliness of forgetting the intention of his visit.   Amelia smiled back broadly and held out her hand for the paper to sign.  She shook her head at herself for finding the sound of his laughter pleasing. Loneliness made her rather foolish, it seemed. She held the document to the wall and signed with the pen Jaggers offered her.    He signed the document as well and neatly folded it into his pocket. 

“Mr. Jaggers? Another thing if it is possible?”

“Yes?”

Amelia mulled over how to ask this. She didn’t like being so desperately needy for company and of course, Jaggers was busy with his work.  She needed an excuse to get him to come back again. 

“Is it possible we can begin to look over any other property documents and my father’s will? I would like to know about my financial status and if anything has changed since the wedding.”

Jaggers nodded seriously but for some bizarre reason, his heart began to beat just a little faster. _Don’t be an idiot! She wants to only talk about her finances not ask you to a ball! Not that you would go since you hate balls._

“Of course. We can do a comprehensive review of your assets and any holdings. Is next Friday amenable?”

They agreed on the time and Jaggers bid her goodbye. “I am glad to see you are well, Miss Havisham.”

She let out a humorless laugh. “Hardly. I know I look ghastly.”

“No…I meant that you-“ he trailed off.

“Go on?”

“You seem strong. As if you have withstood a great pain but you have not fallen.”

Amelia’s heart warmed and she ducked her head.  She wanted to tell him he was wrong and she had been no more than a living ghost in the last ten months but it just seemed easier to accept his words.

“Good night, Mr. Jaggers. Until next week.”

 

* * *

 

 

After Katie helped Amelia undress for bed, Amelia asked her what happened to the wedding dress.  Katie paused, her face falling a bit.  She had been so proud of Miss Havisham for overcoming her mental blockades and now…she was going to right back to that damn dress again?

“It’s in the other bedroom, Ma’am,” Katie mumbled.

Amelia nodded. “I see. Hand me my nightgown?”

Katie breathed a sigh of relief and smiled brightly at her. “Yes, Miss.  Good night then.”

As soon as Miss Havisham slipped the gown over her head. Katie hugged her in a tight embrace.  

“Katie! What on-“

“You did well, today, Ma’am. That’s all.” Katie smiled.

Amelia couldn’t help herself. For the last few days, she had been on an emotional carousel, mentally spinning but it felt like it had come to a stop and she could let go.

Amelia began to weep, clinging tightly to Katie.  It was quite a bit of time before she finally let go.

“What if I cannot do it again? What if someone says-“

“Then you try again. There is nothing wrong with having a bad day. They happen. You simply get up and try again.”

Amelia sniffled and murmured her thanks.  She bid Katie good night and tried to go to sleep.   She found it was impossible to sleep now with her thoughts racing.  Sitting up, Katie picked up a sheet of paper on the side table and rooted for a pen.  She had quite a bit of news for E.

_“Dear, E,”_

 

  



	10. Chapter 10

_Dear E,_

_As I read your letter, I can sympathize greatly with your frustrations. If you may forgive my forthcoming speech, but it is understandable how one can dislike someone as your brother, James. I do not think you are wrong to feel any resentment toward him as you seemed to have a troubled relationship with him from the days of your youth._

_May I ask what the natures of your quarrels were? I ask only so that I can advise you appropriately. If your quarrels were over broken toys, sweets not being shared, or general teasing, I would inform you that your anger and resentment might be somewhat misplaced. Rows and disagreements of that nature are all normal and are important for young children to experience so they may better learn to compromise, share, and understand other people as they grow up._

_Now, if the nature of your fights was far more volatile or egregious, then you are not wrong in feeling distressed or distant from your brother. However, I think you should allow your brother to spend his time with you. Unfortunately, I can speak from the experience of not having a sibling in my life any longer. Perhaps you may know of this but if you do not, I shall tell you._

_I have not seen my younger half-brother for ten months. From time to time, I wonder of his whereabouts and whether I can find him again. I am also conflicted on whether I wish to see him again but he had betrayed and hurt me so deeply. After our father passed on, Arthur was certain he would be given a larger inheritance between the two of us.  However, when our father left the larger portion to me and the responsibilities of running our family brewery, Arthur was incensed.  He took to drink and sought to humiliate me in a vile fashion.  I was made aware of his scheme and I banished him from my home after his horrid betrayal of his only sibling._    
   
 _As time passed, I wish I could one day see Arthur again to ask him why he had done all of this.  I do not know whether I can forgive him or if I can resume our relationship as it was before but I think it is important that we can still listen to one another and for the sake of some closure to the bitterness of how we left things._

 _If I were you, I would take this time with your brother to clear the air and properly convey how his actions towards you are unfair and unbecoming of a sibling. I can assure you, you will feel much better to express your grievances but show mercy upon him. You do not know the pain of losing a sibling._    
   
 _I hope my counsel was of help to you.  I am flattered you sought my help in this rather delicate matter._    
   
 _I would write more but I am afraid that I have an appointment with my solicitor. He’s a decent fellow and unlike most people I know, he is sincere and trustworthy.  I shall tell you all about my visit with him after he departs._    
   
 _Yours,_    
 _Amelia Havisham_

Amelia put down her pen but frowned upon seeing her fingers. Oh dear, she thought. Her fingers were splattered with ink! Blast! This particular ink would take hours to properly wash out.  Amelia cursed silently to herself over her hands looking so unkempt.  

_Steady on, Mellie. It’s only Jaggers! He probably will be so focused on discussing the financial standings for each property that he won’t notice the ink._

_But Jaggers always has such clean and neat hands! How will he ignore your decidedly ugly ones?_

_Your hands are not ugly…he just happens to have rather lovely and elegant hands._

Amelia jolted at the unusual thought. What on earth?! Amelia shook her head vigorously as if to shake it out from her mind.

_Good heavens, Mellie! You must be dreadfully lonely or you have spent far too much time in this house that you are thinking up nonsense! You are not attracted to Mr. Jaggers! Why, you don’t even know his Christian name!_

The more Amelia tried to put the thought out of her mind, it felt as though a dam broke inside her mind. The normally stern and stiff lawyer could be a little handsome…well, more than a little if she was being completely objective.    
   
When Amelia first met Jaggers, she had to confess she found his scholarly appearance rather charming. He was sensibly neat and tidy but not vain and fastidious. She also thought it was endearing when his brow would furrow as he would read, how she could see the mental gears turn in his mind as he’d try to come up with a tactful way of speaking to someone, or how he would try to desperately try to hide his smile when he was not supposed to.

 Most young women would find him overly serious and proud, but she thought the solicitor had a classical look about him.  More than that, Jaggers was far softer than he let on. One could always tell where they stood in his eyes.  There was no guessing, no games, or uncertainty with him.  

_But you are not attracted to him! You mustn’t be! You know better and leave him alone already! What would he want with a madwoman like you?_

Her thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock upon the study door. “Miss? Mr. Jaggers is here. Will you be receiving him in the study or in the parlor?”

Blast! He was here already?! “Ah…ah, show him into the study.”

Her fingers were still covered in ink and her day dress had become wrinkled from sitting on it for so long while writing to E. She looked a bloody mess and now her solicitor was a few feet away! 

_Why are you fretting? It is only Jaggers! He won’t laugh or mock you for looking a little unkempt! He’s hardly the sort that places importance on such trivial matters. He’s not_ _Compeyson_ _or Arthur, for that matter._

Amelia heard the knock again and the door knob turn. Amelia straightened the front of her dress and stood tall. Those were just silly thoughts she was having earlier, she told herself. She strictly liked her solicitor as someone she could trust to do business with. That was the end of the matter.

 

* * *

Except…when Jaggers came in, he looked decidedly different.  Why! He looked…strangely happy! His eyes were sparkling and she could see that little secret smile dancing upon his lips.  His clothing, while always refined and elegant, was new and he was wearing his cravat with more style than practicality. Amelia didn’t know why but her heartbeat began to quicken a little. Did…did Jaggers do this for her? She felt warmth rise up in her cheeks when Jaggers smiled at her.

_Stop it! He’s being polite, not mooning for you! Remember yourself, Havisham!_

“Mr. Jaggers, thank you for coming. Won’t you please be seated?”

Jaggers took his seat but his demeanor did not change into his typical business-like manner.  Amelia watched him and it was becoming more evident that the gentleman before her had a secret. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it since he was still reasonably behaving but there was certainly something unique about him.

Jaggers and Amelia sat for a better part of an hour discussing her financial state. Amelia was relieved to find that she was not as destitute as she once thought but it was apparent she would have to make some changes in order for her income to grow to its previous state. The brewery had no investments and was consuming a large sum of money each month.

“I would advise you, Miss Havisham, to find a business manager or an interested party whom you could sell it-“

“Why should I sell it?”

Jaggers looked up, a little confused. “Ah, you may need to sell the property if you are not managing it. It will only continue to serve as a drainage to your wealth. If you hire a business manage, there is risk if you pay him wages and he mismanages your brewery. Of course, if you have a preference or know of someone who can-“

Amelia was about to interrupt by asking why couldn’t she run the brewery again but her own mind answered her question.

_In this state? Look at you! You barely stopped wearing that damned dress! Who would trust you to run a business when you have been living as a madwoman for the last several months?!_

_“_ Miss Havisham?”

“Yes?”

Jaggers regarded her gently and asked carefully, “I can see my proposed solutions are not pleasing to you. Tell me, is there another course of action you wish to take?”

Amelia gave a humorless chuckle. “It is not feasible-“

“It could be if you plan it well. I see no reason for you not to express it.”

Amelia began slowly, “W-what if I took back control of the brewery? I know it would be impossible but it may be good for me to…” She trailed off.

“Not at all, Miss Havisham. I am sure there are many investors who would take interest in supporting the brewery. I must caution you though it would take time to persuade them but if you would allow me to contact some gentlemen, I am sure you could have a meeting with them in a few weeks if you share your former business plan.”

Amelia lit up instantly. “Really? You think it so?”

Jaggers nodded. “Indeed, Madame. These gentlemen I have in mind are my father’s acquaintances. I am sure I could put in a good word for you. I can also assure you that these men are sensible and are open to good ideas, especially a Mr. Wells.”

Amelia heard a strange note in the way Jaggers said “Wells”.  It sounded…Amelia blinked with confusion at her own thought.  Dare she say there was a hint of dreaminess in his voice when he said that name. She couldn’t be silent at this.

“Wells? I am afraid I do not know that name. Who is he?”

Amelia was at a loss for words when she saw a faint blush cross his face. Good Lord! Jaggers and blush were not two things she would put together in the same sentence. What on earth?

“I say, Mr. Jaggers! Are you alright?”

“Yes, very much so! Why do you ask?”

“Your face suddenly became a bit, ah, red.  Has the room become too hot? I shall ask-“

“No, no. It’s not that at all. I, ah….oh, dear Is my face very red?”

“No, but it has taken on a shade I’ve never seen in all my years of knowing you.”

Jaggers flushed again, causing Amelia to laugh at her solicitor’s strange behavior.  Jaggers couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at his own foolishness.   It sort of pained him to hear Amelia laugh that. He was not sure why but he felt a bit uncomfortable to tell Amelia the nature behind his happiness.

_Steady on, old boy. She was never yours. Miss Havisham is not soft for you and has never been. You have no such obligation to her to feel nervous._

Jaggers took a deep breath. He knew it was ridiculous to speak like this but he had to share the news with someone.

“Ah, Mr. Wells is the father of the young lady I have begun courting, Madame.”

The words shocked Amelia.  _Oh._  She instantly recovered, pretending to be pleased.

_Idiot girl! You only just decided this morning you thought him handsome, but you are hardly in love with him! Why would that upset you if he is courting someone? If he wishes to do that, he may! He was never yours. Jaggers is not soft for you and has never been. You have no such obligation to him to feel possessive!_

“Oh! Congratulations, my friend! Tell me about her.”

Jaggers needed no prompting. “I must confess it was a surprise even to me. Last week, my parents were hosting a grand party in their home.”

* * *

 

_Jaggers wanted to kill himself. The party was dreadfully boring and the recipient was most undeserving. James did not even want this blasted gathering! However, their dear mother wanted to show a united family and that all things were well in the world of the Jaggers’s.  The family had gone above and beyond their usual extravagance. Honestly, Edward thought bitterly, you would think the Queen was coming! Edward consulted his pocket watch. James was late. To his own party. James was upstairs and had not yet come down, despite guests having been in their home for close to an hour._

_“Ah, darling! Mr. Wells would like to speak to with you. Your father has been boasting of your work, as usual.” Mother interrupted his thoughts._

_Jaggers looked over and saw a tall, barrel-chested man talking to his father.  Jaggers internally groaned since there was little to no reason for him to be standing there. He would probably be asked the same boring questions about law and commerce but would turn his attention back to his father and Edward would just be standing awkwardly._

_Jaggers reluctantly sighed and pasted on his most polite smile as he proceeded to Mr. Wells._

_“How do you do, Sir?”_

_Wells looked him up and down and gave a strong nod. “Pleased to meet you, young man. Your father was telling me a great deal about you. I understand you are the son who followed in this great man’s footsteps?”_

_Jaggers ducked his head modestly. “I can only hope I do, Sir. I assure you it is no easy task.”_

_Wells gave him a hearty clap on his back. The sudden contact made Edward internally balk. “Good man! It is refreshing to meet a young fellow who does not think the whole world is a walk in the park!”_

_The two men talked some more but Jaggers found himself losing interest until he heard Mr. Wells say loudly,_

_“Ah! Elizabeth, come and meet our hosts!”_

_Jaggers glanced over and immediately it felt as if his heart had fallen into his stomach. A strikingly beautiful young woman dutifully proceeded over to the men. She did not walk with a skittish or timid demeanor. She walked upright with comfortable ease and looked on to her father curiously.  The young woman had raven black hair, olive skin, and blue-green eyes. She was tall but likely came up the middle of Jaggers’ chest._

_“Yes, Father?”_

_“Elizabeth, this is Edward Jaggers and his father, Sir William.”_

_“How do you do, Miss Wells?” Jaggers barely stammered out._

_She raised an eyebrow and her lips twitched in amusement. “I am quite well, Sir.  I was just about to get a glass of punch. Would you care to accompany me?”_

_Jaggers did not telling twice. Women this entrancing usually didn’t give him a second glance, much less an invitation to go anywhere with them._

_Elizabeth Wells proved be an utter delight. She was well-read, charming, and confident. Jaggers especially liked her sense of individuality and her ability to think of herself. Elizabeth also invited him to dance and was comfortable enough to tease him playfully. As the evening went on, Jaggers found himself further taken by Miss Wells.  Miss Wells was receiving a great deal of attention from the young men there but she would politely redirect her attention back to Edward.  Everything was going quite well until James at last made his appearance._

_The eldest of the Jaggers’s sons descended the stairs, somewhat disheveled. He wore a light beard from not shaving for three days, his hair in errant curls, and his cravat loosely tied.  Edward looked at his brother with mild envy. Even in his untidiness, he still was catching the eye of several young women.  Elizabeth actually laughed when she saw him. “Good Lord! Who attends a ball in such a_ _lacksidaisical_ _fashion? Did he only just awaken and remember?”_

_Jaggers couldn’t help but be pleased that Elizabeth saw the ridiculousness of James’s appearance and behavior. Of course, James had to come and introduce himself but Elizabeth could barely take him seriously._

_At last, the evening came to a close. Jaggers desperately wanted to ask Elizabeth if he could call on her soon but he couldn’t seem to work up the courage. He nervously looked over at her father and he could see Elizabeth and him in a rather animated discussion. Mr. Wells came marching over, expression unreadable._

_“Do you wish to court my daughter?” he asked without preamble. Jaggers felt his face warm from being put on the spot. “I._ _..I_ _ah, would like that, Sir. Of course, only if you would approve and so does Mrs.-”_

_“Tomorrow then, at one o’clock.”_

_“W-why thank you, Sir.”_

_Mr. Wells gave a nod and proceeded onward. Elizabeth came rushing over, looking highly_ _embarassed_ _._

_“I am so sorry! I do not know what my father just said to you but I-”_

_“He gave me permission to call on you at one o’ clock_ _tomorrow. Would that time suit you?”_

_Elizabeth cast a glance at her father’s back and gave a humorless chuckle. Jaggers gave her a knowing grin. “I have a very meddling family too. I understand completely.”_

_Elizabeth smiled back lightly. “Well, one o’clock it is then,”_

* * *

 

Amelia listened to this whole story but felt a strong sinking feeling as Jaggers happily spoke about the meeting with this Miss Wells.  _He is not yours. You are not really taken with him. No need to be jealous_ _._ _You’re just lonely_. 

 _“_ I see. I am glad to hear that things are progressing well between you and Miss Wells. She sounds lovely.”

“She is. Very much so! I am sure you will have an opportunity to meet her some day.” 

Amelia motioned to the papers Jaggers brought with him. “Are those for me to sign?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I have taken the liberty of signing my part as the notary but all I require is your name.” 

Amelia looked over the documents but could barely concentrate. She felt unnecessarily distressed and just wanted Jaggers to leave. Having him in her home only made her realize so much of the world was moving on as usual and she felt terribly left behind.  People around her were falling in love, courting, and where did this leave her?  _Lonely and bitter,_  she thought.  _You cannot even be happy for one of the few friends you have because you are so consumed in your_ _self_ _, miserable bitch!_

Jaggers chuckled when he took the pen back from her. “I see you have your ever-present ink on your hands?”

“What? Ever-present?” Amelia asked with feigned surprise. Damn, she thought, She hoped Jaggers would not notice. 

“Yes, Miss Havisham. In all the years I have known you, you have always had a small spattering of ink on your hands. Your father did as well.”

“It takes a great deal of time for it to come off. More than one wash!” Amelia explained a bit pitifully. 

Jaggers gave an uncharacteristic laugh. He waved his hand. “I am very familiar with that ink. It is not a bad thing. I always thought it was a sign of your hardworking nature, A very admirable and rare trait.”

Amelia couldn’t help but smile. “That is a kind way to put it.”

“I am completely sincere! It is not common to see those who have lived well in their privelege understand that they must work hard and sacrifice in order to keep it.” 

Amelia opened her mouth to speak. There was so much she wanted to say. Amelia craved conversations like this and Jaggers was perfect to supply it but...

“I am afraid I am feeling a little unwell, Mr. Jaggers. I apologize but I think it best if I take a rest.” Amelia quickly spoke. 

Jaggers looked a little confused but nodded in agreement. “I must be going as well. It was a pleasure to see you again, Miss Havisham. Please know I am always at your service.”    
   
Amelia felt her throat tighten.  _Stop it! Leave him alone! Let him be happy with his new future. You. Do. Not. Love. Him. You have no attachment to him. Let him go._

Amelia smiled tighly and rang for Katie to escort him to the door.  Amelia rudely did not even accompany Mr. Jaggers to the door, she swiftly went to her room and closed the door loudly behind her.   

She kept replaying the way Mr. Jaggers looked as he told his story of meeting Miss Wells.  Why was this affecting her so deeply? What was wrong with her to not accept that this business acquaintance had a life outside of his dealings with her? 

Did Compeyson ever tell anyone about her in the same way?  _Of course_ _he didn’t!_ _It_ _was all a fraud and a lie!_  Amelia groaned over thinking about that blasted man again and buried her face in the pillow. She was nothing more than a living ghost.  Her own folly of not recognizing true character and goodness led her down this road and left her all alone.    
 

* * *

   
As Jaggers walked to his office after his meeting with Miss Havisham, he kept wondering what happened to cause her to ask him to leave. She had been conversational, engaged, and attentive when they were discussing the property. All of a sudden, she took ill and wanted him to go home? Jaggers furrowed his brow. He had been talking about Miss Wells and that suddenly changed the tone. 

Was she jealous? Whatever on earth for? Miss Havisham had never been taken with him before and she never indicated any romantic interest in him.  In fact, he recalled a time during the Compeyson affair in which she called him the most insufferable man she ever met because he tried to persuade her not to put Compeyson’s name on the document.  No....she wasn’t jealous. 

Perhaps the whole affair had made the young lady so scornful of love and romance that anyone who experienced it was a fool in her eyes. Jaggers scowled at that but it was the most believable explanation. If he were in her, ah, position, he would sympathize with her feelings. Truth be told, he usually thought most people in love were rather stupid. As much as he was beginning to like Frederick, he thought the way he prattled on about Katie was idiotic. 

However, Jaggers understood this now. He already was eagerly looking forward to the evening so he could take Elizabeth to dinner. Jaggers loved her wittiness and he spent hours trying to think of things to say to her to make her laugh aloud. He loved the way she wrinkled her nose if she ate something she did not like. Jaggers could talk for hours over how beautiful her eyes looked when the sun shined on her face. Most of all, he loved her fearlessness and daring to speak her mind and have her own opinions. 

_Like Amelia does. A woman ahead of her time._

Jaggers shook his head furiously at that thought. He was not interested in Miss Havisham in that way! He may have been long ago but those feelings were long dead and he had an incredible woman now. 

 _She was never yours and you were never hers. Move on and be happy with the gift of a lady you have now!_    
   
Jaggers nodded his head resolutely at this. He deserved this happiness and he refused to ruin it over what might have been.  He could see Miss Havisham was doing well enough so there would be no need for anymore letters either.  _Move_ _forward, old boy, Elizabeth is your future_.


End file.
